Sunday, November 27th
77.)
I woke up before Blossom, as usual. She wasn't cuddled up to me anymore. I rolled toward her and looked at the back of her head, at her blonde hair. I let my hand rest gently on top of the blanket, on her hip. I let my weight fall on her slowly, over the course of minutes. Maybe five, maybe ten. I didn't want to wake her.
I stayed like that for a while, my hand on her. Had she been diapered, it would have made a sound. A quiet sound, something so subtle I might not have even noticed.
Or maybe I would notice. Maybe I would be curious what made such a sound. I'd move the blankets away and find that her shorts had slid down. The white plastic would poke out from the waistband. A diaper?
But why would an adult like Blossom wear diapers? I would subtly reach over onto the nightstand and grab my phone. I'd pull down the waistband of her shorts and snap a picture. When Blossom woke up, we'd have to have a talk about her future. I mean, what kind of twenty-year-old wet the bed anyway?
After a while of daydreaming, I lifted my hand off her hip as slowly as I put it on. I climbed out of bed with uncharacteristic grace, grabbed my glasses off the nightstand, and tiptoed my way into the living room.
The sun wasn't quite up, but it was well and truly morning. Winter does that. I went upstairs to get my laptop. I was almost done with the next chapter of Academy A and I didn't want to wait until next week to finish it. We would have to leave in a few hours.
Blossom felt the hand on her. She felt it gently touching her with tentative contemplation. And she felt Amy get out of bed. She waited, and listened. Would she go to the kitchen? Would she go upstairs? In a state of twilight half-sleep, Blossom listened until she heard Amy go upstairs.
To write, probably?
Blossom was okay with that. She let the twilight of sleep fade back into the darkness of it.
I was waiting in the living room when Blossom woke up. I thought about making some French toast or something for breakfast - that wasn't baking! But honestly, I made for a terrible cook and I didn't want Blossom to think less of me. Instead, I cut up some fruit from the fridge and made a small platter.
"G'morning," I said as Blossom's eyes adjusted to the bright living room. I was obviously in a better mood. "Looks like your pajamas are still dry. Color me impressed."
Blossom blinked the grogginess from her eyes, and each blink synced up the color in her cheeks. Amy had made Blossom Brixley blush and that was no mean feat.
"Well if I hadn't, it would be your fault for letting a student sleep in panties, right?"
It wasn't her best snapback, but she was still waking up.
"Academy A students know to diaper themselves before bed," I said plainly. "Maybe you're more of an Academy B girl? Or the nursery in Academy I? Obviously responsibility isn't your strong suit."
Blossom actually looked like she was speechless. Probably because she had just woken up, and I had been writing diaper smut all morning. She was at a disadvantage.
"Have some fruit," I said. "I finished Chapter Eleven."
***
(If you are following Academy Works, please read Ch.11 [linked above] and return here to continue the story. If Ch.12 has been released, it is recommended that you DO NOT read it at this time.)
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