A joyous ruckus could be heard in the art room as the girls busied themselves setting the stage for the play. They only had a week left and a few hours outside classes to make sure everything was perfect for the big day.
"A little more to the left… not that much!"
"Why do I have to be the one to climb up there, again?" Manuela asked from her standing position on the wobbly step-ladder.
"Because you're the tallest one," Westhagen provided, in her quality of self-proclaimed stage manager. "A little higher! Yes, perfect!"
"Rackow is taller than all of us combined," Manuela whined as she felt her palms start to sweat uncomfortably.
"I'm afraid of heights," the girl in question offered nonchalantly from her chair.
"It's almost over, you just need to hang this… this beautiful paper chandelier expertly crafted by Kerpenbach – thank you, Kerpenbach," Westhagen saluted as she lifted the piece for everyone to see.
"Hurry!" Manuela almost yelled, agitating her hand impatiently.
Ilse nodded in apology and stood on tip-toe, holding out the chandelier as Manuela leant forward to grab it.
"Manuela, be careful!" Yvette warned, but it was too late, she realised, and she watched helplessly as the stepladder swayed to one side, then to the other, making Manuela lose balance and fall face-first on the wooden stage.
"Manuela!" the girls shrieked in unison.
/
Twenty minutes later, the injured girl was lying on the infirmary bed, white as a sheet and a massive bandage covering her forehead while Yvette was clutching at her hand quite desperately. With her free hand, Manuela reached up and pressed a tentative index against the growing bump.
"Ouch!" she protested out loud.
"Don't touch it, dummy!" Yvette scolded with a frown. Then, she softened. "Are you okay?"
"No! Yvette, what will I do? The play is in a week, I can't play with a lump the size of an egg on my forehead," the chestnut-haired girl lamented.
"Well- surely it will have decreased by then. Or you could borrow Ilse's wig," she offered and chuckled at Manuela's disgusted grimace.
At that moment, the door to the infirmary flung open, and a very distressed Fräulein von Bernburg barged in.
"What happened?" she exclaimed, looking frantically between Manuela and Yvette. She instantly sat beside Manuela on the other side of the bed and brushed her fingers against the bandaged forehead, frowning in deep concern.
"Manuela… fell from the step-ladder," Yvette provided hesitantly.
Fräulein von Bernburg's complete attention was on Manuela, who was now letting her cheek lean tenderly against the woman's hand. Her eyes were full of adoration and she was smiling a goofy, apologetic smile.
"I'm okay," she assured. "It's just a bump."
"I heard the commotion in the hallway as I was about to leave; the girls said you fell and hit your head…" the teacher murmured, still frowning, and obviously still in shock.
Yvette was silent on the other side of the bed but she was watching with unhindered fascination at the domesticity of the scene; Fräulein von Bernburg fierce and possessive and Manuela gentle and submissive. It was a side of them she had never been allowed to witness before. And it was obvious now, not that she doubted it, how much they loved each other. Unwilling to spoil the moment, but suddenly feeling like an intruder, Yvette let go of Manuela's hand gently and stood up from her chair. At Fräulein von Bernburg's inquisitive gaze, the blonde girl gave a reassuring smile.
"I'll let you have some time alone…" she offered. Then turning to Manuela, she added, "I'll be in the hallway just in case…" Just in case Racket comes by, was heavily implied, and at Manuela's grateful nod, she exited the room quietly.
Elisabeth pointed at the closing door with a rising eyebrow, and Manuela held out her hand in defence.
"I did not say anything. She just found out and I could not lie to her. She will never say anything, we can trust her," she assured as she linked their fingers together.
The older woman nodded mutely, glancing down at their joined hands.
"You really like her, don't you?" she then asked, her tone light.
"Very much so. Not as much as I like you, however," Manuela said with a genuine smile.
Elisabeth broke into a grin of her own and came closer to brush her lips gently against Manuela's.
"Well, isn't that precious."
"I should hit my head every day if it means I get to see you like this," Manuela said, grinning, and she kissed Elisabeth's hand softly.
"Don't you dare ever do this to me again!" the older woman threatened, suddenly very serious. "What on earth were you doing on a ladder anyway?"
"A step-ladder. We were setting the stage for the play. We only have a week left, we need to get everything ready," Manuela explained. "Will I see you then?" she then added, trying not to sound overly hopeful.
"Will there be other stunts involved?" Elisabeth said as she laid a careful hand on her lover's bandaged forehead.
"There will be sword-fighting. Me in breeches and Westhagen with a wig," Manuela added, before she burst out laughing.
"Just the first part would have been enough to convince me," Elisabeth said and gave Manuela another quick kiss before she got up from her chair. "I should go."
Manuela tried to hide her disappointment but smiled when the woman leant in again to press a tender kiss on her injured forehead.
"I wish I could take proper care of you," she murmured.
"I promise I will sustain plenty of other injuries for you to tend to in the future," Manuela assured playfully. "Good evening, Elisabeth."
Blushing a little at the use of her first name, the woman walked to the door, "Good evening," she said, before finally walking out and closing the door behind her. Once in the hallway, her eyes fell on Kleist whom, as promised, had been keeping watch to make sure they had a safe moment together. On impulse, Elisabeth squeezed the girl's forearm as she came to her level and sent a gentle smile her way.
"Thank you, Kleist."
The girl felt her cheeks turn crimson, and she met her eyes hesitatingly. "It was nothing, Fräulein von Bernburg."
They looked at each other in silence, suddenly feeling very close over their mutual affection for Manuela and a certain understanding seemed to pass between them.
"Make sure she stays away from stepladders for a while, will you?" the older woman finally said with a knowing smile.
"I give you my word," Kleist answered, chuckling.
With one final nod, Elisabeth walked away, still worried for Manuela but relieved that someone trustworthy and caring would look after her this evening.