Blurred lines in a forbidden fairytale [Taylor x OC]

{39} nothing or everything new?

Taylor's POV:

I drive back with my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles ache. My mind keeps circling the bruises on Sarah's arms, the tear-streaked look on her face, the tension in Lucy's voice as she tried to dismiss me.

It's suffocating.

By the time I pull up outside Aurora's house, my chest is heaving like I've been running for miles. I need Aurora. I need her steadying presence, her warmth, her perspective. She's the only person who can help me make sense of this madness.

I park the car and stride up the front steps, my heart pounding louder than my footsteps. I ring the bell, taking a deep, shaky breath.
When the door opens, Aurora's mother stands there, her mouth pulling into a hard, displeased line the moment she sees me. Her eyes narrow like she's been expecting me, and not in a good way.

"What are you doing here?" she demands, her voice icy.

"I need to see Aurora," I say, trying to keep my tone calm, even though every nerve in my body is stretched tight.

She crosses her arms, blocking the doorway. "You're not welcome here. I told Aurora she's not to have any contact with you. Did you think I wasn't serious?"

"Please, Mrs. Evans," I plead, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I just need five minutes with her. That's all I'm asking."

Her eyes harden even further. "You're not getting five seconds. I don't care what kind of influence you think you have over my daughter. You're done interfering in her life."

"I'm not interfering—" I start, but she cuts me off with a raised hand.

"She's grounded because of you," she snaps. "Do you even realize the chaos you've caused in this house? And for what? So you can drag her into...whatever this is? No. Stay away from my daughter."

Her words hit like a slap, and for a moment, I'm too stunned to speak.
"I care about Aurora," I say finally, quietly, desperately. "I just need to talk to her. Please."

Her lips tighten into a thin line, and she steps forward, forcing me to take a step back. "Go. Home."

The door slams in my face before I can say another word.

I stand there, staring at the closed door, my chest heaving with frustration and hurt. A part of me wants to ring the bell again, to bang on the door, to shout until Aurora hears me. But I can't. Not with her mother standing between us like a fortress.

I turn away, hands slightly shaking, and head back to my car. The weight in my chest feels unbearable. I thought telling my girlfriend everything would help, but instead, I'm more lost than ever.
As I slump into the driver's seat, I hear the faint creak of the front door opening again. My head snaps up, and there she is—Aurora.

"Mom, what are you doing?" she demands.

"Aurora, get back inside," her mother snaps, blocking the doorway like a sentinel.

"Taylor's my friend," Aurora insists, her tone heated. "You don't get to treat her like that!"

Her mother's expression twists, and she turns to glare at her daughter. "She's not just a friend, Aurora. Do you think I'm stupid?" Her voice drips with disdain. "She's way older than you, and she's trouble. Do you think I'm going to let her poison you any further?"

My stomach knots. I crack the car door open, ready to step out, but Aurora beats me to it. She storms past her mother, after grabbing her jacket, her face flushed with anger.

"You don't know anything about her!" she shouts.

"I know enough," her mother counters, her voice cold. "She's ruining you. You're skipping school, sneaking around—acting like someone I don't even recognize. This isn't the Aurora I raised."