TORN

Chapter 2: Driven by Desire

It was nearly 5 PM the next day when Y/N approached Harry's office. The hallway was quiet, the soft glow of evening sunlight filtering through the windows, casting long shadows on the walls. Her heart raced, not from the brisk walk, but from the thought of seeing him again, alone. She reached the door and hesitated for just a second before knocking gently.

"Come in," Harry's voice called from inside, calm and inviting.

Y/N stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her. Harry was seated at his desk, one hand resting casually on a stack of books, the other flipping through some papers. He looked up when she entered, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Punctual as clockwork," he remarked, motioning toward the couch in the corner of the room. "Make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you," Y/N replied, sitting down on the plush leather sofa. It was softer than she expected, and she sank into it slightly. The room felt intimate, cozy even, with the warm lighting and the floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books. Harry joined her on the sofa, not too close, but close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him.

"I've been thinking about our conversation," Y/N began, her voice steady but tinged with the tension she could feel simmering beneath the surface. "About what you said regarding emotions and rationality. But I wonder... what about desire? Isn't desire the most powerful emotional drive?"

Harry's eyes darkened with thought, his gaze never leaving hers. "Desire is certainly powerful," he said quietly. "But it can be dangerous. Desire pushes us toward decisions we may regret."

Y/N's lips curled into a faint smile, her heartbeat quickening. "But isn't that what makes it so compelling? The risk... the surrender of control."

His hand, which had been resting on the armrest of the sofa, edged slightly closer to hers. He didn't touch her, but the proximity was electric. "Desire reveals much about us," he murmured, his voice lower now. "It makes us do things we wouldn't normally allow ourselves to do."

The tension between them thickened. Y/N could feel her skin tingling, her pulse quickening with every passing second. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of them and the unspoken pull between them.

"And what happens when we stop fighting it?" Y/N's voice was barely a whisper now, the question hanging in the air between them.

Harry's gaze flickered to her lips and back to her eyes. "Sometimes," he whispered, "we have to let go."

Before she could respond, his lips were on hers. The kiss was tentative at first, testing the waters, but when Y/N didn't pull away, it deepened. The heat between them flared quickly, like a match catching fire. Y/N's hand slid into Harry's hair, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more passionate.

Harry's hand moved, almost hesitantly, over Y/N's body, tracing the curve of her waist before finally resting on her breast. His touch lingered there, more confident now, and Y/N gasped softly, her fingers tangling deeper into his curls as she pressed herself against him.

Suddenly, Harry pulled away, his breath heavy. "This is wrong," he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. "I'm your professor, Y/N... we can't."

But Y/N wasn't willing to stop. Her hands slid down to his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his shirt as she whispered, "I don't care." She kissed him again, and this time, Harry couldn't resist any longer. His restraint crumbled, and he gave in to the desire that had been building between them.

Their bodies pressed together now, and Y/N could feel something more—a growing bulge in Harry's pants. The realization sent a thrill through her, and she arched her body closer to his, her breath catching in her throat. The heat between them was undeniable, and their breaths came faster as Harry's hand slid lower, teasing the waistband of her jeans.