The Unforeseen Blooms [R-18]

PROLOGUE

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Ralph's POV

The sunlight filtered through the trees, but it was his wood-brown eyes that seemed to swallow the light. They were dark, absorbing the golden warmth and leaving nothing behind.

The grass beneath him seemed to bend with a certain surrender, as if even the earth felt his presence and pressed against him in quiet pleasure. His gaze was downward, fixated on his bare feet, as though lost in thought. His face, devoid of any discernible emotion, was serene-too still, too unreadable.

I watched him longer than I should have. The silence between us was thick, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I felt my eyes tracing the angles of his face, the smooth lines of his jaw, the way his lips rested in a soft, neutral expression. My staring must have been obvious, because without warning, his eyes flickered up to meet mine.

For a moment, neither of us moved. His gaze was steady, unwavering, holding me in place. Then, as if something passed between us, his lips curled slightly-not into a smile, but into something that mirrored it, a ghost of an expression, an upside-down smile that seemed to know more than it let on.

I wanted to return it. I should have. But instead, the weight of my own hesitation dragged my face back into stillness. His almost-smile faded, replaced with something else. We were just... staring at each other. It felt like a question hung in the air between us, one neither of us had the courage to ask. Then, slowly, he leaned back on his hands, still keeping his eyes locked on mine.

His gaze shifted, though-nervous, uncertain, moving in small glances, tracing my features the way I was tracing his.

There was something magnetic, irresistible in the way he held himself. He was always ethereal, as if he didn't quite belong in the world the way others did. And now, with the sun setting behind him, casting a halo of gold around his silhouette, the contrast only made him more beautiful.

My breath caught when his expression changed again. His lips parted slightly, eyes glassy with something I couldn't quite name. But I could feel it. It washed over me in waves, tugging at something deep, something primal. I wanted to close the distance between us-to erase the space that suddenly felt unbearable.

And before I could stop myself, my body obeyed that silent urge. I leaned forward, slowly, drawn toward him as if by some invisible force. Closer. Closer still. My heart was thudding in my chest, but all I could hear was his breathing, soft and shallow, mingling with mine. My eyes couldn't leave his face-the faint pink in his cheeks, the warmth of his breath brushing my skin, the way his lips seemed almost too perfect to be real.

But he didn't move.

He sat there, perfectly still, except for his eyes.

There was something in his gaze that urged me on, some unspoken invitation he couldn't bring himself to voice. They were pleading, speaking without words, begging me to close the distance. To do what we both knew I shouldn't do.

And yet... I could feel it. The heat radiating from his skin, the tension straining the air between us. It was unbearable.

I was so close. I could taste it-.

I leaned in further, every fiber of my body screaming for it, for him, for the impossible.

His eyes, glossy and wide, began to water. A single tear welled at the corner of his eye, threatening to spill, but not from prolonged staring. No-it was something deeper, something we both felt. A tear for the things that could never be. For the wrongness of it all.

I was inches from him now. Close enough to clearly and effectively feel the heat of his skin, to hear his breathing grow heavier, more labored. I was about to give in-to surrender completely.

"Ralph... Oliver! Come on, baby, dinner's almost ready!" Sabrina's voice cut through the moment, sharp and piercing, breaking the spell like glass shattering in my ears.

Her words echoed in my mind, too loud, too real, jarring the fragile world we had created between us. Oliver's eyes widened, and in an instant, a tear slid down his cheek, silent and heavy. It wasn't from the intensity of our gaze-it was the weight of our shared understanding.

This was wrong. Deeply, horribly wrong.

Reality came crashing down on me, cold and unforgiving. My wife-his mother-was calling me from inside the house, just a few feet away. This was wrong. Every fiber of my being screamed it, yet I had let myself drown in the temptation, in the overwhelming pull that Oliver had on me.

The spell was broken, and all that was left was the bitter taste of regret and the cold, sobering truth.

I pulled back sharply, the fog in my mind dissipating with a sickening clarity. What had I been thinking? What had I almost done? The weight of the truth crashed down on me like a tidal wave.

This was wrong. Absolutely, utterly wrong.

Oliver wasn't just anyone.

He was my stepson.

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•Only a work of Fiction•

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A/N: I would love to hear your views!

It is a small but very deep prologue. It took me time to think and write. I hope you enjoyed this.

*Please share your views: should I leave the faces of the characters on your Imaginations or should I find faces for them. (Its better to leave it on your imagination but anyways Please do tell.)

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