blurred lines in a forbidden fairytale

{22} you're my best and worst mistake

Taylor's POV:

It's been a  little while since that night at the abandoned factory, and something between Aurora and me has shifted. We're still cautious, still careful, but we've settled into this secret—like slipping into a familiar rhythm. The fear of getting caught lingers, but it's drowned out by something stronger. I'm not sure what to call it. It's not just desire, not just infatuation—something more fragile and more terrifying.

November is coming to an end now, and the days are getting even colder. The chill seeps through the city, turning the mornings sharp. I meet Aurora at the usual spot behind the gym after school, where the stone wall shields us from prying eyes. She's leaning against the brick, scrolling through her phone, her brows furrowed. When she hears my footsteps, she looks up and her whole face changes—softens. My chest tightens at the sight.

"Hey," she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She's wearing her flannel jacket, the one I love the most on her, though it's actually way too big for her, the sleeves almost swallowing her hands. But I can't complain when she looks so... right in it.

"Hey," I reply, my voice quieter than I intend. It always is around her. She has a way of making me feel vulnerable in a way no one else does.

We stand there for a moment, not saying anything, just looking at each other. It's like there's this unspoken language between us now—a silent understanding of everything we can't say out loud.

"You wanna go for a walk?" she asks, breaking the silence. "It's kinda freezing back here."

I nod, and we start walking, our footsteps in sync. We don't touch in public, not even accidentally. It's one of the unspoken rules we've set. Still, there's something intimate about walking side by side, sharing the same space, the same cold air.

"How was your day?" I ask, trying to sound casual. It's a simple question, but with her, it feels like asking for a secret.

She shrugs. "Same old. Got yelled at for not paying attention in history. But who needs history anyway?" She pauses, glancing sideways at me. "You?"

"Busy," I say, which is the truth. My schedule is packed with classes, papers, and meetings with students. It's exhausting, but it keeps me occupied—keeps my mind off everything else.

She tilts her head, studying me. "You look tired."

I laugh softly. "Gee, thanks."

"I mean it," she says, stopping to face me. "Are you finally eating? Like, real meals?"

I stiffen slightly. It's a conversation we've had before, never quite addressing directly. "I'm fine," I say, forcing a smile.

"Taylor..." Her voice is soft, but firm. She reaches out, hesitating before letting her hand drop. "I worry about you, you know?"

"Don't," I say quickly, turning away. "I can take care of myself."

There's a beat of silence, and I'm afraid I've pushed her away. But then, she just sighs. "You don't have to do this alone," she murmurs.

It's not the first time she's said something like this, and every time, it catches me off guard. The sincerity in her voice makes me want to believe her, to let her in, but I can't. Not completely. So, I just nod, offering a small smile.

She lets it go, and we keep walking.

Over the next few weeks, we find ways to steal moments together. It's risky, but it's like a game we can't stop playing. Between classes, I find excuses to call her to me, under the pretense of needing help with something. I hardly spend time in the teacher's lounge anymore, also to avoid Travis. I haven't talked to him since the break up.