“Sweet Lily?” I heard her repeat, but my brain had sorta disconnected from the rest of my body. I felt very trapped in my own head, like my skull had closed in and stopped my brain from connecting to the rest of me. I could feel my body still, but it was just as if I couldn’t use it. My fingers couldn’t move, couldn’t stop squeezing the bottle in my hands. My feet were planted on the floor, bare and heavy as they grounded the rest of me. My head was dipped down to look at everything, but I felt like I was watching and not actively controlling.

I was a passenger in my own body.

Was this feeling even possible? It felt too strange, too… not normal. It was almost as if I was feeling… claustrophobic… in my own head…

Fuck, I felt like I was going to die, like I was dying, and it filled my body with fear. The kind of fear that soaked my skin through my muscles, my bones, all the way to my brain. The same kind of fear from that night.

I think my breathing sped up. Shallow, quick inhales that scraped past my throat, itching my lungs but not doing much of anything to provide myself oxygen.

My fingers started to tremble from holding the water so tight, and I could just barely see that my knuckles looked so strained they looked white.

But I couldn’t move.

I was stuck.

“-Lily!”

Her voice finally cut through the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears, the pounding of my heart, the every little tremor traveling around my body. I hadn’t known I couldn’t hear anything until I realized someone was talking.

“Lily,” she repeated, and hands were suddenly on mine, prying them from the bottle. “Lily, look at me.”

But I couldn’t as she pulled the bottle from my hands and set it hastily on the bedside table. I still couldn’t as she pulled me by my upper arms to face her, twisting me on the bed. I still couldn’t as she lifted my legs to set them beside her hips. I couldn’t as she pulled me into her lap.

But then her hand was on my neck, brushing gently against my skin as I felt her pull my chin up slowly.

I was granted a beautiful vision of her stomach tattoos, her soft breasts with those pink peaks, her defined silky collarbone, her stretched out neck, her bloodied lips and face and mask and-

Oh.

Her eyes.

Were so…

Pretty…

Wide, dilated pupils with long lashes. I could still make them out through the black mask covering everything above her cheeks.

Filled with concern, though, that was covering her arousal. Not sympathy, not exactly worry, but actual fucking concern.

Her hands were gentle on my arms, rubbing up and down carefully as I let myself sink into the soft touch of her fingers, her warm palms, as she soothed my goosebumps. The chills that my nerves sent from the points she touched me up to my brain, jolting it like electricity.

And then I was back in my head.

A gasp let out of my mouth, and I blinked at her.

“H-holy fuck…” I breathed as I took in deep breaths. “What the fuck?”

I was shivering now that my body let my brain take control again. It felt like my fucking heart was creating the shivers as I felt a buzzing in my chest, like a million wasps flitting around inside of my ribs. I felt the jolts as if they were stinging me with electric shocks that caused my eyes to shutter closed as I grimaced.

“Fuck, what the fuck is wrong with me?” I sobbed through my gasps of air.

My eyes were closed, but they were warm… and my cheeks were warm… and wet…

Why was… was I… surely not, but…

“It’s okay, Sweet,” I heard her say as her arms moved from my arms to wrap around my back. Pulled me into her and in my ear she said, “You can cry. You’re safe with me.”

And these words seemed to break through some invisible barrier in my mind, and all of these emotions, this huge ass flood of emotions screamed past all of my strength and efforts to hold them back and erupted from my eyes and mouth and chest and fucking soul.

I tilted my head to slam my face into Orchid’s neck and bawled my fucking eyes out. Cried until all of my tears were flowing down her body like rivers on a mountain. I curled my arms from our joint laps to wrap around her waist and crush her to me, myself to her. And as she reciprocated, my brain got caught on those words.

You’re safe with me, she’d said.

Was I? Did I feel safe? Was she safe?

She… she must’ve been, because how else could she have pulled me from my… whatever it was? How else could I cry on her shoulder like a toddler who tripped. Like she was my mother, comforting me like no one else ever had.

Had anyone else done this for me? Held me, let me cry, patted my hair and rubbed my back?

Fuck, we’d just gotten each other off, and now I was having this… mental break down…

Why? What the fuck was wrong with me?

I think I cried for a year, and my face seemed to agree. My mouth was dry and sticky and tasted bitter but also like blood. My eyes were strained and tired and sore. I think my nose was running, smearing my own snot on both of us. My abs were so tired, too, from hacking up these coughs, along with my sore lungs.

Who needs an ab workout when you can just cry?

But finally, the endless supply of salt water behind my tear ducts seemed to empty and my sobbing breaths finally calmed into an even pattern. My arms were so sore from gripping this wonderful woman to me, so I forced myself to let go. Let my arms drop as I slowly pulled away from her neck.

I couldn’t meet her gaze. Fuck, I was too embarrased. I’d just cried my fucking eyeballs out of their fucking sockets, drenching her in tears and snot and saliva and fuck, I just wanted to fucking bolt out of their.

But firstly, I was practically naked. Secondly, I needed to pay her. Thirdly, I should probably talk to her before I leave because of… well…

She had let me pull away from her, her hands coming to rest on the small of my back, so fucking close to my ass. Warm and gentle and shit, I wanted to curl back into her all over again. But I wouldn’t. I shouldn’t. So I didn’t.

One of her hands came off of my back to gently tuck my hair behind my ear. Dipped down to tilt my head up to look at her, but I could only give her a glance.

“Feeling better, Sweet?” she asked in that velvety soft voice of hers, and it sent an electrical signal down my spine to my groin all over again. I nodded, still looking down, away from her gaze as she stroked my hair again. “Want to talk about it?”

I opened my mouth and lifted my head ever so slightly, just to look at her face. To read her eyes and mouth and whatever else of her I could see.

“M-maybe?” croaked out of my mouth, and I swallowed. I brought a hand to my mouth to cough into a fist. “I-I think I… should…”

She shrugged, and my gaze snapped to her face. “Does what ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t’ matter? Do you need to care? I certainly don’t care about should and shouldn’t.” She met my gaze and her fiery gaze stopped me from looking away. “Just do whatever the fuck you want.”

I laughed, the sound sharp as it coughed up my esophagus and exploded from my mouth. But I was so tired and my lungs and abs hurt so bad that all I ended up doing was coughing as I curled over and held my stomach.

“Ahha… fuck…”

I felt her chuckle around me, the vibrations from her hands and arms and legs and stomach and all the rest of her that was touching me.

“So?” she asked, continuing to stroke my hair behind my ear. “What do you want to do?”

“I-I think I…” I began, but then I stopped. I actually thought about it, about what I wanted… What did I want? She waited patiently as I thought, taking my time to delve deep in my own brain to figure out what the hell was going on in my own head. “I think… I think I want to t-talk…” I glanced up to look at her face. “I-is that o-okay?”

She smiled kindly, still stroking my hair. “Of course. I’m always here.”

So I took a deep breath and decided to start at the beginning.

“I’m twenty-nine years old,” I said. “I’m a pediatrician, the owner of Floral Futures, and I work with my adopted sister, Diane. On Saturday, we had a high school reunion at The Heaven’s Restaurant and Bar. I usually don’t drink alcohol because I’m… a bit of a lightweight,” I said. 

My common sense was screaming at me to shut the fuck up because I was telling a stranger, someone who’s name I didn’t even know, something that would expose my vulnerabilities. And this information in the wrong person’s hands might cause… situations similar to Saturday’s.

But for some reason, I trusted her. I trusted her not to abuse this information, to keep my secrets secret and be here to listen to me.

So I continued.

“But that night, I had this drink. It was so sweet and pretty that I thought it had really low alcohol content or was maybe even a non-alcoholic content drink. So I had two.” I was watching her face as I told my story, looking for any sign of discomfort or disgust or anything before I said the next part. When I couldn’t see anything but open attentiveness on her face, in her eyes, I continued. “But it turns out that it had tequila and was really, really strong. So I ended up drunk.”

She nodded quietly, still listening, and I felt so open and bare and naked in several ways other than physically.

“The thing is, while drunk, I sorta lost my sister… or maybe she lost me, but either way, I was alone as I stumbled around the bar. And then I bumped into someone, and it was someone I knew so I thought they’d help me, but…”

I trailed off, a shudder that had nothing and everything to do with my melt down, shaking me to my bones.

But when I didn’t continue, she spoke up. “Did this person… do something?”

I took a deep breath. A big inhale through my nose, held it for a few seconds, and then blew it out from my mouth.

“Yeah,” I finally breathed. “H-his name is Grayson. He went to my school. He was a football jock, but he wasn’t very bright. He also liked to harass girls a lot, so I guess I’m not surprised, but… Well, he kissed me very forcefully and very much against my will. And then he tried to drag me away to most likely r-” My voice cut itself off. It felt like my tongue had swollen up and clogged my throat, and I choked. Coughed for a moment before glancing up at her eyes. I almost choked again when I saw that she had fury burning like wildfires in her eyes. Uncontrollable and terrifying in a way I knew was fucking dangerous. “Most l-likely to r-rape me?”

I could hear the question mark at the end of my words, and I felt the flinch accompanying it. I bit my lip in nervousness, and I felt her eyes dip down to the movement. I did the same, looking at her own lips and my mouth popped open slightly to see the blood smeared under and around her lower lip. It blended so well with her dark red lipstick, adding glistening highlights in a way that made me want to lap it up like a baby suck’s their mother’s nipple for milk.

I stuck my tongue out and began to lick my upper lip where I knew was a matching bloody set. It stung in the most amazingly painful way, tasting like iron and the mixed saliva of the both of us, and I felt my already-finished clitoris fill with blood all fucking over again.

Shit, I wanted to kiss her so fucking bad, but now was definitely not the right time. So I just bit my bottom lip again, a little rougher this time, before I continued.

“Yeah, uhm, I thought I was going to die,” I said. “Well, I thought he was going to fuck me and then murder me, and I was so fucking scared even as fucking drunk as I was, but then… Then this girl showed up.”

“A girl?” Orchid asked, and it was as if I could see her perking an eyebrow up in question. “Who?”

“Just this girl from my class,” I told her, frowning as I tried to remember the details of her name, face, and literally everything else… but I had been too drunk and my memory was too blurry. “I don’t remember her or much else, but I do know that she is so fucking awesome at fighting and she’s hella tall.”

I watched as Orchid gave a light laugh. I let my second arm drape over her shoulder again, and then we were just sitting together. All smiles and arousal as we took in each others’ details. I noticed the small black beauty mark poking out from under her mask, probably about a quarter of a centimeter in diameter.

Her lips were wide and thick and full, though I guess I always knew. But now that I took the time to actually look instead of just devour, I realized that they were slightly lopsided. Her bottom lip was fuller than her top one, but the right side was a bit plumper. Just a smidge bit, small enough that I wouldn’t have noticed unless I was examining it with intent. Maybe that made her smile lopsided, too. I’d have to check the next time she smiled.

She was beautiful with her orgasm-flushed rosy cheeks, her sideways lips, her small imperfections. I just wished I could see more of her, examine all of her.

So I let my gaze wander down, let my eyes touch upon every part of her. I memorized her body.

The soft rize and fall of her chest as she breathed, lifting and lowering her luscious, glowing breasts. The gentle pink tink that covered them, centered around the stiff violently pink tips. I silently wondered what they’d taste like, if they’d be salty or sweet or taste just like how her mouth did.

I examined her tattoos. They were so detailed, with shadows and perfect lines and they looked so real against her skin. I felt like if I breathed hard enough, they’d sway to the wind of my breath. So fucking beautiful, just like the rest of her.

I wanted to see the rest of her, lay her naked body out in front of me and push my glasses up the bridge of my nose and give her a physical. Take notes on every part of her body until I could map her out on paper without a picture.

I wanted to push her down, see everything I could right then, but I knew I shouldn’t. I couldn’t, and fuck, why did I feel like this?

Whatever, it didn’t matter.

Except that it did, but I couldn’t let it matter. It shouldn’t matter, it couldn’t matter, it would not matter.

So it didn’t matter.

“I-I’m sorry for… dumping this on you,” I finally said, my arms limp against her as I worried my fingers behind her neck. “I shouldn’t have, but, uhm, thank you for listening to me.”

“Of course,” Orchid replied. “Anytime. And I do mean anytime. You don’t have to come only on Wednesday, y’know. Also, that man sounds like a dickhead, and if you ever see him again, give him a good black eye and a broken nose.”

“A-actually,” I stuttered, “I think he does have a broken nose. That girl, like, stomped on his face and there was a lot of blood.”

She laughed heartily, like the thought of his agony brought her pleasure… and for some reason, I felt like it did.

“Er, uhm, either way,” I said finally, lifting my arms from her shoulders and bending my legs up to support my weight more. “I-I should really get, erm, going, so…”

I pulled my legs back one by one until I was kneeling in front of her. I smiled bashfully and nervously before I slipped off the bed and began to redress.

Pulled on my leggings and my shirt on top. Pulled my cardigan over me before picking up my purse and shifting through it for six twenties instead of the usual five.

“Here,” I told her, holding out the cash.