Work in Progress

Work in Progress

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Sat, Jul 4, 20203h 32m
"Why, Lo?" he asked, trying to catch her eyes which she had firmly planted on the napkin she was still fiddling with. "Why what?" she knew exactly what he was asking but she definitely didn't want to answer him. "Why did you run away? Why do you run away every time?" he asked, sounding stressed, "am I reading you wrong? Is it that you don't like me?" "Of course not," she snapped. "Then what's the answer?" he pressed, "what happened to you that makes you so afraid?" A look of deep pain entered her eyes. He could see it even if she wasn't looking at him. Her mouth was turned down in a frown and she had little stress marks beside her lips. "I don't want to talk about it," she finally replied. He sighed, "I really like you, Lo. In fact, I'm falling in love with you. And I know you like me to. We both know it."
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It should've ended with distance. A silence. A closed door. But instead, it began here-pressed against a balcony wall, with her breath caught between fear and temptation, and his eyes burning with something far more dangerous than lust. He didn't touch her. Not yet. But the threat of it lingered in the space between their bodies, in the way his chest nearly brushed hers every time he exhaled. She could feel the tension rippling off him, barely contained-like a storm pacing behind his ribcage, just waiting to destroy. "You shouldn't be here," he said, voice rough, low, and shaking with restraint. But he was the one who had cornered her. He was the one who couldn't stay away. And she? She hated how much she didn't want to run. Because this-whatever this was-felt like standing on the edge of something irreversible. "You're my employee," he snapped. As if the label could cage what was already unravelling inside him. "You're a mistake I keep choosing." Her eyes met his-furious, pained, exposed. "I never asked you to," she said, but her voice cracked around the lie. His hand lifted slowly, brushing the side of her jaw with a touch that contradicted everything his words said. Possessive. Tender. He stared at her like she was the very thing he was never meant to want-and the only thing he couldn't stop needing. "I've spent years building walls to stay in control," he muttered, his thumb grazing her lower lip. "You walk in and wreck all of it... without even trying." She swallowed hard. This wasn't love. This wasn't even hate. This was obsession-raw, electric, and utterly doomed. And as his lips hovered over hers, trembling with the weight of a thousand wrong intentions, they both knew- 🥀It started with a look. It spiraled with a touch. And before they could stop it, they were already each other's greatest undoing.

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