Our Forbidden Love

X : What Are We?

Fallon's POV

I have always been aware of every little thing she made me feel. Even the negative ones.

It's so frustrating how I can't think straight whenever I picture her with someone else.

What if I'm confusing obsession with love? Could these feelings even be real?

Maybe I should just get on with my day.

Whatever happens, happens.

Harriet took my hand as we walked down the stairs. We both always get the Monday blues, and neither of us is really a fan of mornings, so we'd barely said a word since we'd bumped into each other in the kitchen, just a quiet "good morning" as we passed.

"Ugh, I really want to skip today," she mumbled, yawning. I couldn't agree more.

"Same, but let's try to make some progress for character development since we're already in college," I said, stifling a yawn myself.

You could tell just by looking at our faces—red, tired eyes and expressions that screamed we had dragged ourselves out of bed with no choice but to show up and mark our attendance.

And, yeah, those looks were basically the truth.

"Coffee?" Harriet gestured toward the cafeteria. I nodded. Coffee was definitely the solution.

...

"I think we need to talk," I said, a bit louder than I intended, as soon as Cataryna stepped into the small room that Harriet and I had found earlier.

Harriet and Hannah had been sent to the library to get some work done. I figured it was the right time for a conversation when our best friends were occupied.

"That's pretty direct... but go ahead," she replied.

"We both know my parents are trying to set me up with Rayne, right?" I said. She nodded.

"I don't feel anything with her. It just feels off. But with you— we weren't even a thing, and yet you made me feel like I was everything. So what are we, Cataryna?"

"I thought we'd figure it out with time. I know you feel something, because I do, too. Let's not rush this— let's take it slow," she answered.

"Cat, are you being honest with yourself right now, or are you just idealizing some version of me in your head?"

She went quiet. That silence was a weight lifted off my chest. It was clear she was actually listening, really paying attention.

"If you're not going to say anything, I'll just take your silence as your answer," I said, turning away from her.

I didn't even feel hurt. It was more like a cold, hard slap of reality.

Maybe a platonic relationship is all we're meant to have after all.

If she was caught off guard by my interrogation, would I regret trying to stay friends with her, knowing everything we've been through and how much of an impact she's had on me— on my writing, too?

Will I ever truly move on from my obsession with poetry, my favorite subject, the one that she's been a part of for so long?

"Fallon, listen," she said, and I turned to face her, doing my best to mask the emotions that were bubbling under the surface.

"Just tell me if it feels unfair, and I'll stop, I promise," she added.

"To say it feels unfair is an understatement— it's the equivalent of everything I've felt in the years we've known each other."

Her expression said everything I couldn't put into words.

No turning back now, no more pretending with the hopeless romantic.

"It was fun knowing you, Miss Michigan. Until we meet again." I said, grabbing my books and rushing to the nearest library, where I would have to hold back my sobs and keep them silent.

...

"How have you been? You haven't replied to my texts," Rayne asked as she greeted me at the door of her apartment.

"Aren't you going to impress your guest first by inviting her in and offering her a drink?" I teased.

"Oh, right. Get your hopeless romantic self inside, Fal," she laughed.

I sank into the red cushions in her living room. "Drinks?"

"Iced water will do, thanks," she replied.

"Alright, give me a sec. Help yourself with the TV or magazines in the meantime," she said, heading to the kitchen.

"Rayne?"

"Yeah?" she answered from the kitchen.

"Do you love me?"

"In what sense do you want me to define that?" she asked, her voice light but curious.

"Platonic or not, however you see it," I responded, watching as she brought over my iced water with lime and some biscuits.

"I do love you, in a way that respects your boundaries, but I won't kiss you, because, well... I have feelings for someone else," she said, her face apologetic. "I'm sorry if you thought—"

"Thank God!" I exhaled in relief. "I'm glad we're on the same page. I hope we stay good friends, long-term."

She smiled as I pulled her into a tight hug. Her figure, a few inches taller than mine, fit perfectly against me. She still smelled like vanilla.

"Yeah, thank Him. But can I ask you a favor?"

"No," I joked, "but what is it?"

"I need help writing a poem for this girl..." she hesitated, looking slightly embarrassed.

After a few minutes of explaining how simple poetry could be, I was honestly impressed by how quickly Rayne picked it up. She grasped the use of metaphors easily, and admitted that it felt like therapy for her— transforming her feelings into words that, she hoped, would find their way into the heart of the girl she liked.

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asked, glancing at the clock and realizing it was already after 6 PM. The view from her big windows was captivating, the city lights just starting to flicker on.

"I'll check with Harriet first to see if we're eating together." I dialed her number but got no response, so I sent a text instead.

To: Harriet S.E.

Got plans tonight or we eatin' together? 🤨

After some minutes, my phone vibrated.

From: Harriet S.E.

Fam dinner tonight at Donny's, parents really got a way of surprising their kids 😒

Oh also I'm really sorry boo 😭

"Are we cooking, or are we ordering in?" I asked Rayne as she rummaged through her fridge.

"It's up to you, you're the guest here..."

"Let's order from Jollibee," I suggested, referring to the new fast food spot near the university. "I've heard their food is really good—wanna give it a try?"

"Sure thing, missy."

I dug into the juicy fried chicken and sweet spaghetti, finally understanding why everyone had been raving about it.

"So, you didn't just come here to ask if I love you, right?" she asked out of nowhere.

I nodded. "No, I have a story to tell. Will you listen and try to understand it from my side?"

"Of course!" she said eagerly. After washing down some Sarsi, we ended up on the rooftop, just hanging out.

When the moment felt right, I started sharing a story I never thought I'd tell her— a story I wasn't sure I was ready to speak out loud.