Lines We Cross

Chapter 23

⚠️ Smut

The apartment was filled with the rich aroma of spices as YN leaned against the counter, watching Elizabeth move around the kitchen with practiced ease. Elizabeth had invited her over for a quiet dinner, just the two of them, and YN couldn't help but feel a flicker of nervousness mixed with excitement. It had been days since they'd spent real time together, and something about Elizabeth tonight was... different.

YN watched as Elizabeth stirred the sauce on the stove, her back turned, her movements efficient and controlled. There was a slight stiffness in her posture, a formality YN wasn't used to. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the usual warmth between them felt a touch colder, a bit more reserved.

When Elizabeth finally turned around, carrying the plates to the table, she offered YN a small smile—warm but restrained. YN followed her, taking her seat across the table, feeling a quiet tension settle between them as they began to eat. The conversation was light, skimming over small details about their week, but YN could sense something lingering.

Elizabeth's laughter felt slightly subdued, her gaze not quite meeting YN's the way it normally did. YN tried to brush it off, but as the minutes ticked by, the tension grew harder to ignore. She wanted to reach across the table, to close the distance, but there was something holding her back—something in Elizabeth's steady, guarded demeanor that made YN hesitate.

Finally, after a silence stretched just a little too long, YN set down her fork and cleared her throat. "Are you... okay?" she asked softly, her gaze searching Elizabeth's face. "You seem... off tonight."

Elizabeth's eyes flicked up to meet hers, and for a moment, YN saw a flicker of vulnerability beneath her usual poise. Elizabeth took a breath, setting down her own fork, her gaze steady but carrying an edge. "I'm fine," she replied, her tone measured. "But if I'm being honest... I can't say that I've moved past everything that happened."

YN's heart sank, the weight of her guilt settling heavily in her chest. She reached across the table, her hand finding Elizabeth's. "Lizzie, I'm really sorry," she whispered. "I wasn't thinking... I didn't realize how much it would hurt you."

Elizabeth looked down at their hands, her fingers gently tracing YN's knuckles, but her expression remained guarded. "It's not just about what you did, YN. It's about trust... and exclusivity. I thought I made it clear that I don't share."

YN felt a jolt of memory—the last time Elizabeth had said those words, laced with a quiet intensity that YN hadn't fully understood then. She felt a pang of shame, realizing just how much her actions had undermined that promise.

"I know," YN murmured, her voice filled with regret. "And I want that too. I don't... I don't want anyone else, Lizzie. Just you."

Elizabeth's gaze softened, but there was still a tension lingering in her expression, a shadow of hurt that hadn't quite faded. She rose from her chair, circling around the table until she was standing in front of YN. Wordlessly, she took YN's hands, guiding her to the couch and settling into her lap, her legs straddling YN's waist.

YN's hands instinctively moved to Elizabeth's hips, feeling the warmth of her body against hers. Elizabeth's hands rested on her shoulders, her gaze intense as she looked down at YN.

"You mean that?" Elizabeth's voice was a low murmur, laced with both promise and warning. "You're mine. That means something to me, YN."

YN swallowed, feeling the weight of Elizabeth's gaze, her pulse pounding as Elizabeth's fingers traced a slow path along her jaw. Elizabeth didn't say anything more, her expression conveying everything YN needed to know—the intensity, the possessiveness, the desire to claim her fully.