Desire

XII.

Lea

I barely had time to process what was happening before Isabel's lips were on mine. For a split second, I froze, my mind scrambling to catch up with my body. Isabel was kissing me.

Isabel was kissing me.

It was like all the tension between us—the glances, the almost-touching, the arguing—had built up to this, but I didn't expect it to happen like this. So sudden, so forcefully. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the warm of her breath against my skin as she pressed her body closer.

But then, something shifted. My surprise faded, and the chaos in my mind quieted. I let myself sink into it, returning the kiss slowly at first. Her lips were softer than I expected, warm and certain.

But before I realized it, my hands were in her hair, pulling her closer, as if I couldn't get enough. It felt good—better than I ever would have admitted out loud. I eased into the kiss, letting go of everything else.

But then reality hit me like a cold splash of water.

I pulled away, wide-eyed, my breath catching in my throat.

What the hell just happened?

Isabel's eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything. The silence between us felt heavy, thick with the weight of what we just did. I didn't know how to feel. I didn't know what to say.

My mouth opened slightly to speak, but no words followed. I couldn't think. My mind felt an entire array of emotions—surprise, confusion, maybe even a bit of anger. I wanted to be mad at her, at this, but I couldn't be. Not fully.

I took a step back, creating space between us, needing it to breathe. My heart was still racing, and my skin was still buzzing with the sensation of her touch, but my mind was screaming for me to stop, to pull myself together.

An awkward silence stretched out in the air between us. I couldn't meet Isabel's eyes for more than a few seconds without feeling a wave of confusion and frustration knot in my chest. I still felt the press of her lips on mine, the intensity of it, but it didn't make sense. None of this did. But beneath the confusion, all I could think about was how much was at stake. Too much.

We'd only just started to figure out how to be around each other again. We were supposed to be working together on the biggest showcase of the year—something I had to focus on if I didn't want my entire career to go down the drain. And Isabel... Isabel had Astoria Ballet to impress. She couldn't afford distractions like this.

Like me.

I looked at her, my mind racing. If we messed this up—whatever this was—it wouldn't just be awkward. It could ruin everything. Our friendship, the showcase, our futures. Everything was tied up in this one fragile connection we had, and one wrong move could tear it apart.

Isabel shifted, as if she could feel the weight of my thoughts. "Lea," she said softly, stepping closer again but not too close. Her voice was steadier than before, but I could hear the tension beneath it. She was trying to keep her composure, but I could tell she was just as confused as I was.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, my fingers tangling in the strands. "Isabel, we can't—this could mess everything up." I hated how my voice shook a little. "We just started figuring out how to not hate each other again, and now..." I trailed off, not sure how to finish.

She took another step closer, her eyes locked on mine. "You think I don't know that?" she said, her voice a bit sharper now. "You think I haven't thought about how complicated this is?"

I swallowed, feeling my heart pound harder in my chest. "Then why did you—"

"Because I couldn't help it," she cut me off, frustration flashing in her eyes. "I couldn't stop myself. Do you have any idea how hard it is to stand next to you and pretend like I don't feel this... pull? Like I don't want to—"

I felt my cheeks heat up, and I quickly looked away, trying to get a grip on the swirl of emotions that were making it hard to breathe. "Isabel, this can't work," I said quietly, shaking my head. "Not now. Not with everything happening. We still have to work together for the showcase, and you need to be perfect for that performance. You need Astoria to notice you. Isn't that what you've been working towards?"

"I know that." She sounded frustrated, like she was fighting some internal battle she couldn't win. "I know what's on the line." Her voice softened, and she stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin.

I stood there, waiting for the tension between us to settle, but it never did. The weight of everything hung in the air like a storm cloud ready to break. I had to say something before we both did something we'd regret, something that could unravel everything we had been trying to rebuild.

"I think we should try to be friends," I said, finally breaking the silence as I took a step back. Isabel blinked, clearly not expecting that. I wasn't sure I had expected to say it either. "We need to keep things... professional. For the showcase, for everything." The words tasted bitter coming out, but I knew they were right.

Isabel's eyes narrowed, her expression shifting from disbelief to something colder, sharper. She crossed her arms, and I could practically feel the anger radiating off her. "Friends?" she snapped, her voice bitter. "Are you fucking serious?"

Here we go.

I nodded, even though my heart wasn't fully in it. "We have to, Isabel. There's too much at stake. We can't afford to... complicate things."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "Right. Complicate things." Her jaw tightened, and I could see the hurt behind her eyes, even though she was doing her best to hide it. "So, that's it? We're just going to pretend like nothing happened?"

I stayed quiet. My chest tightened. I didn't want to pretend. But what choice did we have? I wasn't ready for this, not with everything hanging over our heads.

Isabel let out a frustrated breath and looked away, as if she couldn't stand to look at me for a moment. "Fine," she said, her voice cold. "We'll be friends. We'll keep it professional. If that's really what you fucking want."

But I could hear the strain in her voice, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. The distance between us felt wider than it had ever been, even when we couldn't stand each other before. We were slipping back into that same old dynamic, only this time it was worse, because now there was more at stake than just our pride.

"Isabel..." I started, but I didn't know how to finish. What could I say? Sorry for kissing you? Sorry for wanting this to work but being too afraid of what it could cost us? Nothing sounded right.

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Don't," she said quietly. "You made your choice. So, we'll do what we always do—push everything down and pretend it doesn't exist. It'll be easier that way, right?" Her eyes darkened.

Fuck.

I felt a pang of guilt, but I didn't argue. It was easier. Safer. But as Isabel turned to leave, I knew that this wasn't the end of it. We could pretend all we wanted, but the tension between us wasn't going to disappear. If anything, it would get worse, straining whatever fragile friendship—or whatever this is—we were trying to hold on to.

As the door closed behind her, I sat down on the couch, letting out a long breath. My heart was still pounding, and my head was spinning. We'd just taken ten steps back, and I didn't know if we'd ever be able to move forward again. Being just friends with Isabel was going to be harder than I thought.

And deep down, I wasn't sure it was even possible.