Prairie stood by the window, her fingers tracing the cold glass, trying to feel something beyond the life she knew. The house was quiet, almost too quiet, as if the walls were holding their breath. She’d done everything right—followed the rules, played her part—but there was something inside her that had started to fray.

Then there was him.

“Aldrin,” she whispered as he appeared in the doorway. He shouldn’t be here. Not now. Not ever. Her heart raced, betraying her resolve as she turned to face him, the familiar ache in her chest growing stronger.

“I shouldn’t have come,” he said softly, stepping just inside, the door quietly clicking shut behind him. His eyes swept over the room, lingering briefly on the photo frames by the mantel, before settling back on her. “But I couldn’t stay away.”

“You should’ve,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction. She didn’t move, but neither did she turn him away.

“You say that,” Aldrin replied, walking closer, “but I don’t believe it.” He stopped just short of her, leaving the smallest space between them. “Tell me you don’t feel this too.”

Prairie swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she clenched them at her sides. “It’s not about what I feel. It’s about what’s right. What we’re supposed to be.”

His eyes darkened. “Supposed to be? According to who? The world outside? The life that’s already mapped out for you?”

She closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe. It was wrong. It had to be. But the way his presence lit up every dull corner inside her made her question everything she’d ever known. “Aldrin… this isn’t—”

“Isn’t what?” he interrupted, stepping forward. His hand brushed hers, just for a second, but it sent a shock through her, lighting up the places she thought had gone cold. “Isn’t real? Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when I know I should.”

Her breath caught in her throat. The weight of everything unsaid hung between them, the invisible chains of her life binding her even as she longed for his touch. “We’re not supposed to…” She trailed off, her words falling flat.

“Not supposed to what?” he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Want something more? Something that isn’t in a script?” He paused, his gaze searching hers, filled with an ache that mirrored her own. “I can’t believe this is wrong, Prairie. Not when it feels like this.”

She turned away, walking toward the window again, needing the distance. “It’s not just about us, Aldrin. There are others involved. Promises made…” Her voice broke on the last word, and she hated herself for it.

Aldrin’s silence was heavy, but when he spoke again, his tone was softer, almost resigned. “I know. But what if those promises are suffocating you? What if, for once, you let yourself breathe?”

Prairie’s hands pressed against the cool glass, her reflection staring back at her, tired and worn. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? To give in, to let go. But the life she had wasn’t just hers to abandon.

“I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Aldrin moved behind her, close enough that she could feel his warmth, though he didn’t touch her. “I’m not asking you to leave everything behind,” he murmured. “But don’t shut this out. Don’t shut me out.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart screaming one thing while her mind whispered another.

The silence stretched between them, filled with everything they couldn’t say out loud. And as Prairie stood there, caught between the life she had chosen and the one that called to her now, all she knew for certain was that something had already changed. Something she couldn’t undo.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” she finally said, her voice barely audible.

Aldrin’s breath was warm against her hair as he spoke, his words filled with quiet intensity. “Then let me be strong for both of us.”

But even as he said it, the question hung in the air, unanswered—could she ever let herself fall into something that wasn’t hers to claim?

© reddragonfly

#AldrinxPrairie #forbiddenlove