Worst Day Since Yesterday
by feldman
She storms to her quarters and grabs a bag, hot blue with fury at herself, but she doesn't pack her things, doesn't want to carry such useless stuff, bait for thieves--doesn't really want to leave even though the guilt hurts worse than contagion.
The authorities wasted cycles trying to inoculate her with shame to go along with their disease, but a Luxan just did it with the break in his voice as he ordered her away, fevered her skin with shame with the hurt in his voice alone.
If she stays or goes, there's no
cure. So she stays.