● qυorra neverѕea ●

A groan breaks past his lips, the very sound awakening something inside of me. I scrape my teeth past his neck harder, before reaching up to tangle my fingers through his silky hair. He returns my vigour, our lips finding each other and tongues dancing to an intoxicating rhythm. His fingers reach down to the hem of my shirt, scalding touch searing my heated skin.

A sound snatches my focus. Is that... talking outside?

"Wait," I grab Slater's wandering hands, rendered breathless by his addictive touch.

He stops, chocolaate eyes lifting to mine as our laboured breaths fill the air, "What's wrong?"

I pull away from him and lean towards the entrance of the tent.

Silence.

"Did you not hear that?" I speak my thoughts aloud, "I thought I heard something..."

Catching his breath, he shakes his head.

Am I going mad?

I sigh and shake it off, straightening my shirt and dragging my fingers through my hair, "Sorry, never mind. I-I've just been paranoid lately. What if we-"

He presses a chaste kiss to the side of my mouth to shut me up, "Don't even suggest that, Quorra. We'll be alright. This," he looks at me pointedly, "was a momentary lapse in judgement for me, but I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Everything is still a risk until you graduate."

"Or drop out," I mutter, failing to mask the deflation in my tone.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

I twirl my marshmallow on its stick mindlessly, watching the flames of the campfire dance around its pillowy edges. The glowing warmth of the fire wraps me in a comforting hug, and the small group of laughing students gathered around me transports me back to old halcyon days, yet my thoughts can't help but tiptoe back to the one person who hasn't left my mind since the first goddamn moment I met him.

By the time I've realised that my marshmallow has caught on fire and is melting into a goopy puddle, its too late. I stare down at the blackened slime plastered across the ground and sigh, setting my stick down beside me and resorting to a marshmallow-less s'more. Sandwiching the two pieces of cracker together with a tablet of chocolate, I nibble on the edge.

At the sound of a chuckle, a flurry of chills skitters down my spine.

I look up, meeting icy blue eyes framed by messy blonde hair.

My heart stills in my chest as my chocolatey dessert slips from my fingers in slow motion. His lips curl up in a smile.

My feet are carrying me far, far away before I register a single letter of his name.

Time restarts. My blood pumps through my veins and my heart hammers in my chest as I half-stumble and half-run away from the soft glow of the campfire. I hear him chasing after me, like a predator. Clear blue eyes tattoo themselves to the inside of my eyelids. I feel myself collide with something rough, and before I know it, I'm clutching a tree trunk for support - whether it is a physical or mental crutch I need more right now, I don't know.

"Quorra, what's wrong?"

I whip around as if slapped across the face. The source of my nightmares stands before me, bringing memories I smothered with new ones back from repose.

"W-what's wrong?" I repeat incredulously, my voice but a whisper in the cold air that elicits goosebumps along the back of my arms, "What's wrong is that the very ghost haunting me at night is standing right in front of me, less than two metres away with a smile on his face as if he's meant to be here. W-why are you even here? You're meant to be gone. You were gone."

He walks closer, sucking the breath and the life straight out of my chest.

"Yes, I was gone, but my dad made the authorities see straight and I'm just temporarily here now until the police decide what to do. They were meant to make their decision two hours ago, and given that I've not been arrested by now, it looks like I'll be resuming my studies here. As I should be."

"A-Are you serious, right now?! Are you... Are you telling me that you're not going to jail? Even... Even after you..." my words die in my throat.

He shrugs cavalierly, barely bothered, "You seem perfectly fine to me. No reason for anyone to jump to rash decisions now."

No one word can describe the amalgamation of concentrated fury, timid fear, and physical pain thundering inside of me right now. Perfectly fine? He sees intact skin and presumes that there's no damage beneath the surface? Psychological wounds scar forever, and leave a mark even after healing. I'm never going to be perfectly fine. I'm never going to be fine at all.

Not after what he did.

Tears are pouring down my cheeks before I can stop them. My barriers shatter and expose my vulnerability to the one person who caused it in the first place.

I noticeably tremble, and not from the cold.

"But you raped me," I whisper shakily, my words carried away by the wind.

He stares at me, unfazed.

"Please leave, Grant," I sob, sinking to the floor and folding myself up as small as I can, "Please."

Footsteps fade into the distance. Soon, I'm left on the damp ground with muddied palms, a raw throat, red eyes, and tear-stained cheeks to match.

No-one's here to comfort me. I'm left alone with the one person it is hardest to convince it'll all be okay.

Myself.

◈ѕlaтer нarтley◈

My eyes are fixed on Quorra from the moment she runs off.

Where is she going? And why?

My legs are screaming at me to run after her, but every logical morsel left in my mind is screaming even louder that I've risked enough on this trip. Any more indication that we are anything more than a professor and his student will ruin us both. I would not be able to bear doing that to her, even if I would be able to bear my own consequences.

"Right, Slater?" one of the other professors gestures to me purposefully, as if continuing a conversation I should have been listening to.

"Ah, my apologies, what was that?" I ask, turning towards the group of teachers, although my eyes never stray from Quorra, who has been reduced to two specs in the dis-

Two?

"Sorry, I need to-"I don't finish my sentence, shaking my head and running after Quorra.

"Wh- Slater?"

I abandon all reason, and thank god that I made that decision as soon as I see who is with her. The light from the campfire diminishes more and more with every step I take towards the gloomy area, besieged by a bundle of trees. A figure walks towards me, and another is shivering on the floor.

"Grant Lincoln," I grind out spitefully.

He looks up, noticing my presence, and smiles.

"Hello, Sir. Nothing to see here. We can return to the campsite now."

I clench my jaw tightly and ball my hands into fists with whitened knuckles. Why is the bastard I spent hours filing official complaints against standing before me? Why is such a disgusting human being even still breathing?

Don't do something you'll regret, I chant like a mantra as my nails start to cut into my palms.

"Nothing to see? I quite clearly see a rapist standing in front of me who should be behind bars. A rapist harassing their latest victim. Tell me, what are you doing here instead of being in jail, where you rightfully belong?" I bite out, every muscle tense in my body and restraining me from punching him across the face.

My labelling of him has a vein popping in his forehead and his smile dropping faster than his halo.

"I didn't do anything," he says in a low voice, trying to brush past me.

I immediately grab his shoulder with more force than necessary, repeating my question as my patience wears thin.

With a snarl, he shoves my hands off him and leans in close, "Remember, Hartley. My dad has a lot of power. You are dead if you even try anything with me."

"I don't care, Lincoln," I scoff, "I think this is way past a little playground argument. Your ass deserves in jail. I made sure of that. Now I don't know what kind of bullshit you're pulling but-"

"Mr Grant Lincoln?"

The voice has all three of us turning around.

Three police officers clad in navy uniforms stand before us, hats shielding their eyes. One carries a pair of handcuffs in his hand, and the others have a steady hand on their weapons at their waist. They march towards us, gadgets clunking with every threatening step.

"A-ah, yes, officer?" Grant greets, feigning innocence.

But even the blindest of men would be able to see the colour draining from his face.

"Grant Lincoln, you are under arrest for sexual abuse and rape of Quorra Neversea. You have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, what you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult with a lawyer and have that lawyer present during any questioning. If you..."

I watch in shock as the last drops of hope in Grant's expression dissolve into fear. With the monotonous, practised words of the officer, and the signature clink! of handcuffs, he's being led away from the area.

"H-but my father was-" he tries to protest, wide eyed.

"You have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, what you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," an officer reminds him, shutting him up.

"You'll get what's coming for you, Hartley," he says with the last gram of his dignity, "Just you wait."

Disregarding his words and the many eyes watching the scene unfold in awe, I rush to Quorra's side while the other professors try to control the mass of confused and curious students.

"Quorra, look at me," I say softly, gently pulling her arms away from her face, "Please, Quorra."

She cries quietly, more fragile than I've ever seen her. It's as if, for her, recalling bad memories is more painful than being in them.

"No-one's here. It's just me, love. He's gone now, and I really promise this time. He's going to jail," I murmur, managing to pull her arms around my neck and hugging her close to me.

No-one else matters right now. Only her.

Only she ever has.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

I watch her sip from her hot chocolate silently.

The truth about Grant that she has just revealed to me has rendered me speechless.

"His dad is a cruel man," I evaluate, keeping my eyes on her while her exhausted gaze refuses to meet mine.

"Tell me something I don't already know," she mumbles absent-mindedly.

The tent suddenly feels much smaller around us.

My heart aches in my chest for the girl that stolen a place in it.

"Quorra," I plead, completely at a loss, "How do I make it better? I'll do anything for you in a heartbeat."

She replies instantaneously, setting her hot beverage down and gathering her sleeping bag around her for warmth, "You can't, Slater."

I run a hand through my hair, "Quorra, there has to be-"

"There are just some things you can't forget."

●（=｀～'=） ●

MERRY CHRISTMAS, SPUDS!! It's 20 minutes into Christmas here!

I hope you have an amazing day. Spend it doing what you love with the people you love most. Take the day off and thoroughly enjoy it. You deserve it!

I'll try my best to get another update in before the new year, but I might be a bit late so also:

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2018!!!

Over and out,
Agent Spud 🥔