Blurred lines in a forbidden fairytale [Taylor x OC]

{45} a disastrous visit

Taylor's POV:

I'm still sitting on the chair, trying to catch my breath, my tongue down Aurora's throat, when Felicia's voice cuts through the haze.

"Taylor! Come look! I finished my picture!"

Panic bolts through me like lightning. I glance down, realizing I'm still halfway undressed. Aurora, equally flustered, is scrambling to straighten her shirt, her cheeks flushed.

"I'll—uh—I'll handle it," I say quickly, grabbing my pants from the floor. My hands are shaky as I tug them on, fumbling with the strings. Aurora stifles a laugh, and I shoot her a glare. "Not helping," I hiss.
She smirks but doesn't say anything, leaning back against the counter as I try to compose myself.

When I'm finally decent, I smooth my hair back and take a deep breath. My legs feel like jelly as I walk toward the living room, but I plaster on a calm expression, praying Felicia doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary.
She's sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by crayons and markers, her masterpiece proudly held up in both hands. Her smile is wide and eager, completely oblivious to the chaos that just unfolded in the kitchen.

"Look!" she says, waving the paper at me.

I force a smile, crouching down to her level. "Wow, sweetheart. That's gorgeous."

The picture is colorful, a mix of bright yellows, blues, and greens. It's a little messy, but the effort is clear. In the middle, there's a stick-figure version of me holding hands with a smaller stick figure I can only assume is her.

"That's us," she explains, pointing. "And this is Aurora." She taps another figure standing next to us, her stick arms stretched out wide like she's giving us both hugs.

I feel a lump rise in my throat. "You drew Aurora too?"

"Yeah," Felicia says with a shy smile. "She belongs to you, doesn't she? And I like her."
My chest tightens, and I glance toward the kitchen. Aurora is peeking around the corner, watching us with a soft expression.

"She does belong to me," I say quietly, looking back at Felicia. "You did such a good job, Feli. I'm going to hang this on the fridge, okay?"

Her face lights up. "Really?"

"Really," I promise, standing up and holding the picture carefully like it's made of glass.

As I head to the kitchen to grab a magnet, Aurora slips back into the room, her fingers brushing mine as she takes the drawing. "I'll do it," she whispers, her voice warm and full of something unspoken.

I nod, my heart full and heavy all at once, watching as she places the picture on the fridge.
The girl follows us into the kitchen. She stops in the doorway, tilting her head as her sharp eyes scan the room. Her little brow furrows in confusion.

"I thought you guys were cleaning," she says, her voice matter-of-fact, "but it still looks the same."
Aurora freezes mid-step, her hand hovering awkwardly near the fridge. I feel my face flush immediately, heat crawling up my neck like a wildfire.

"Oh, uh..." I stammer, my voice cracking a little. "Well, we were... but, um..."

Aurora jumps in, clearly just as flustered. "We—uh—we got distracted!" she blurts out, her cheeks a deep shade of red.

Felicia narrows her eyes, clearly not buying it. "Distracted by what?"

I force a nervous laugh, avoiding Aurora's wide-eyed look. "You know... just, uh, talking," I say, waving a hand vaguely. "And organizing... the, um... spices."

Felicia's gaze flicks to the spice rack on the counter. It's completely untouched.
She crosses her arms, giving us a skeptical look that's far too knowing for a child her age. "It doesn't look organized to me."