blurred lines in a forbidden fairytale

{18} electric touch

Aurora's POV:

I see it in her eyes—she's battling herself, torn between whatever she feels for me and what she thinks is the right thing to do. But the wine is still buzzing through my veins, loosening the last of my hesitation. I move even closer, closing the space between us again, and she doesn't move. I can hear her breathing, feel the heat radiating off her skin.

I can't stop myself. I don't want to stop.

"Taylor," I murmur, my voice low, almost pleading. She looks at me, and I see that same spark, that same intensity I've been feeling all night. There's a moment of silence, our eyes locked, and then, without another word, I lean in and kiss her again.

This time, there's no hesitation. It's urgent, needy, and I feel her respond instantly. Her hands find my waist, pulling me closer, and I can't help but deepen the kiss, pouring all the confusion, the anger, the desire into it. My hands slide up to her neck, my fingers tangling in her hair as I press myself against her.

The world around us blurs. It's just her, her lips, her warmth. Nothing else exists.

Somewhere in the haze, I feel her fingers at the hem of my shirt, tugging it up slightly, and I don't resist. I have never slept with anyone before but I want this—God, I need this. The rush of it, the escape, the feeling of being wanted, of being seen. My breath hitches as she pulls the fabric over my head, discarding it carelessly onto the floor.

But the second the cool air hits my skin, I freeze. I'd forgotten—about the scars.

I glance down, panic rising in my chest. The long, jagged lines on my arms are exposed, the ugly reminders of what I've been trying to hide. My heart pounds harder, the reality crashing back in. I should've stopped her, should've remembered, but I didn't. And now, there's no hiding them. She's seen them. There's no going back.

Taylor's hands are still on my waist, but she's paused too. Her gaze drops to my arms, and I can see the shock in her eyes. For a second, the air between us feels heavy, like the weight of the scars has shifted everything. My throat tightens, embarrassment and shame flooding me.

I try to pull away, suddenly desperate to cover myself, but Taylor's grip on me tightens.

"Aurora..." Her voice is soft, and when I look up at her, her expression isn't what I expected. There's no pity, no disgust. Just concern.

"Don't," I whisper, my voice cracking. "Just... don't."

Her fingers brush lightly over one of the scars, so gently it makes my chest ache. "When...why did you...?"

I shake my head, moving back a few inches, suddenly overwhelmed. I can't do this. I can't let her see me like this, broken and exposed. "It doesn't matter," I say, my voice more forceful than I intended.

But Taylor doesn't pull away. She moves forward, closing the distance again, and her hand cups my cheek. "It does matter."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I don't know how to respond, how to handle the way she's looking at me—like she cares. Like she really sees me. I'm not used to that. I'm used to people looking away, pretending they don't notice the pain I'm dealing with. But she's not looking away.

I swallow hard, my emotions a tangled mess. "I just... I forgot," I manage to say, my voice small, vulnerable in a way I didn't want it to be.

Taylor doesn't say anything for a moment, her eyes searching mine, and then she leans in again, her lips brushing against my forehead. It's so tender, so unlike the heated kisses we shared earlier, and it makes something inside me crumble.

"You don't have to hide from me," she whispers, her breath warm against my skin. "You can tell me all about it when you're ready but you shouldn't hurt yourself, Aurora. You don't deserve that."