I know it is, she reflected, though the young galdor kept her lips sealed even as the massive, elderly woman began to admonish her. Normally, Vivian wasn't the sort to endure this, staunch to defend herself but this time... She was in the wrong. Next to Mrs. Rogers, nestled into the third bed from the right side of the door to the Infirmary rested the twitching abomination that Vivian Rush created.
Anger, so quick to fester in the galdor's heart, lashed out. Her voice was a low sway, to and fro as she beseeched the mona to teach this wretched soul the lesson she required of it. She sang her admonishment, pulling the mona to her tune. Then, she saw it. The features before her began to curve in pain. Waifish arms carried wide hands along the woman's neck before she clenched her jaw. Fingers buried into her ears. Vivian raised a hand as she watched the twitch in her body.
A smile.
Then, she stepped forward. That raised hand caressed the passive's cheek, moisture welling against her index digit before she snapped. Vivian's hand shifted, nails digging into the passive's scalp as she continued to sing into her ear. Slowly, the singing stopped and the galdor pressed forward, seizing her servant's lips violently with her own. A flash of delight curved the galdor's lips, desire a heady mistress but ignored as she completed the muffled spell against the curr's lips.
"Please," the trash begged of her better and soon after, the darkness overtook her. She began to sway, and Vivian saw no reason to intervene as she crashed to the ground in a heap.
Shivers wracked the passive's form, her collapsed figure rested on her side. Fingers trembled and the galdor couldn't help but admire what she'd done. Even if she knew it was wrong, the performance was the release she'd craved. Still, she licked her lips as Mrs. Rogers lecture continued, heard but not received. There were other things to think about, of course.
"Are you listening to me, Vivian?! This cannot continue!" she yelled out, breaking the younger galdor's focus as at last she paid attention to the elderly woman.
"Of course I am," she snapped, quite displeased with the matter. Yes, I was wrong. Are we quite done? was the sassy retort, begging for utterance. Of course, Vivian Rush had better control of herself than that. The redhead clenched her fists for but a moment, offering Cicely Rogers nothing but a fine smile as she said,
"Please, can you keep this between us? The Headmistress really need not be involved. I've been under a great deal of duress! There's a report due in three days and I've yet to hear a word from him," she seethed, referring to her increasingly distant employer.
"Yes, the Chairs are busy, but how am I expected to process all of his work with no time or contact? Not to mention the other thing," she said, allowing emotion to suffuse into her visage. Her eyes grew wide, and her lips carried a subtle twitch. She leaned forward, and fingers combed her own cheek. Long fingernails brushed just beneath her eye, to wipe away a non-existent tear.
Mrs. Rogers, at last, offered a sympathetic smile, nodding her head, "The only person I've notified is your mother. She'll be here shortly."
"YOU WHAT?!" Vivian's words felt shrill, even though the dulcet tunes often carried pleasantly from her plump lips.
"Yes. She's offered a solution. You'll see. I'll be back in a few," she said, closing their little discussion before heading off. Vivian cradled her chin in her hands, displeasure creeping along her spine.
I'm not a kid anymore! Who the clock does she think she is?!
The echo of footsteps was heard in the distance, and Vivian Rush did her utmost to restore her composure. The clicking grew louder still, and she dabbed the hesitant tears from the sides of her eyes. Then, she adjusted her coat and slung a leg over the other as her fingertips trailed gingerly over the prone passive's wrist.
So lovely... but so stupid, she assessed with cold eyes.