Loving the Forbidden

Finding Solace in Him

HER POV

"I just don’t get it! Why do I always feel this way whenever I’m around him?" I lamented to my best friend, Yasmin Oberio, my partner-in-crime, my emotional support animal—minus the fur, of course. Honestly, without her, I’d be lost. We've been inseparable for over four years, but it feels like we’ve known each other since the dawn of time, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth—or at least since middle school. Yasmin is a knockout: those innocent yet piercing eyes, that pointy nose, the elegant neck, and let’s not forget, a derrière that could launch a thousand ships. She could have anyone she wants, but dating? Nope! She’s more into Netflix and chill—without the chill part.

"I think you like him," she said with a grin that could light up a dark room, as if she'd just uncovered a treasure map. "Yasmin, it doesn’t matter! I can’t have feelings for him!" I replied, my desperation reaching new heights, like a cat trying to climb a tree but failing miserably. I was hoping she'd wave her magic wand and make my infatuation disappear.

“Relax, darling! From what I can tell, he’s a good guy. He won’t hurt you, and he won’t let anyone else hurt you either!” she said, pulling me into a side-hug over the console of my car. Oh, did I forget to mention where we were? We were chilling in our favorite spot, parked on a street corner right before her home, the perfect place for our tea sessions. It’s like our very own judgment zone—where we sip tea and dish out opinions on everyone who walks by, like we’re the judges on a reality show.

“Hazel, you trust me, right? So just go with the flow!” she urged, and I knew exactly what she meant. There’s this weird vibe between us, like she’s my personal oracle. Her gut feelings about my love life are like a GPS—always on point. It's almost eerie how spot-on she is; she must have been a fortune teller in a past life. Whatever she predicts holds true, and yet here I am, tangled in my own emotional web, like a fly caught in a particularly sticky situation. Undefined feelings, anyone?

"Alright, let’s spice things up a bit—how about we hunt him down on i********:?" she proposed, her eyes gleaming with mischief. When I hesitated, she snatched my phone like a seasoned ninja and began her search. Within seconds, she triumphantly located him and insisted I send a message about something: his sister and my cousin’s engagement party, maybe. My heart sank. Initiating a conversation is like trying to leap over a skyscraper for me, especially when it involves him.

“Text him, or I will!” she declared dramatically, her face a mix of excitement and dread, as if she might accidentally send him a sonnet about how much she loves pizza. I quickly grabbed the phone back, thinking to keep it simple. So, I typed out, “Hi, can you send me that video of the decorations you showed in the car yesterday?”

As soon as I hit send, I could feel her disappointment radiating off her like a neon sign. I knew the kinds of bizarre messages she was concocting in her mind—probably something like, “Hey, do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by your car again?” She’s generally the sweetest, most innocent-looking person you’d ever meet. But behind that facade? Oh, she’s a total wild child! If I told people she’s the crazy one between us, they'd look at me like I had three heads.

It was one of those delightful nights where the stars seemed to twinkle just for us. Every time I meet her, it feels like I’ve won the lottery of happiness—minus the money, of course! "You think he’ll reply?" I asked, half-expecting her to pull out a crystal ball. She chuckled and said, "Oh darling, he definitely will," while shoving a piece of her chocolate into my mouth like I was a hungry baby bird. Seriously, this girl has a food-sharing policy that makes me feel like I’m at an all-you-can-eat buffet—except it’s just her food, and I’m definitely the only one starving here.

Now, don’t let her quiet demeanor fool you; she’s a riot when it’s just the two of us. I can’t help but admire her giving nature. She’s like a superhero in disguise, always swooping in to help anyone who needs it. I mean, who knew that being a food-sharing, laugh-inducing, life-saving friend would make someone so undefined yet so wonderfully perfect?

So, as I savored the chocolate and her humor, I realized: if this night were a movie, it would be a blockbuster hit—complete with laughs, love, and a sprinkle of chocolate!

I returned home after an enchanting time spent with her, a brief escape from the weight of the world. After a long day, we met to unwind, to share laughter and stories that chased away the stress. Once I settled into my evening routine, I felt the comforting embrace of my bed calling me. As I lay down, I instinctively opened my i********: messages, curious to see if he had replied. To my surprise, a message awaited me—one I hadn’t expected, especially at this late hour.

As I tapped on the notification, my heart raced at the sight of the video I had requested. A quick "thanks" slipped from my fingers before I turned the screen away, as if lingering too long would somehow cast a spell over me.

His response came almost immediately: "Why are you still awake, little flower?" There was an undeniable authority in his words that sent a delightful shiver down my spine, igniting a sense of mischief within me that I had only ever felt with Yasmin. I typed back, "Went out with my boyfriend and got late because of obvious reasons," playfully teasing him. His reply, just a question mark, left me wondering.

Then, the screen brightened again with his next message: "Aren't you a little too courageous on texts, my princess?" The endearing nickname painted my cheeks a rosy hue, a sweet warmth spreading through me.

As I inquired about his day, I couldn't help but share the details of mine, pouring my heart out while he listened intently. It felt as though I was the one painting the picture of my experiences, while he asked gentle questions, patiently waiting for me to unfold the stories of my day. I excitedly recounted my time with Yasmin, a dear friend with whom I share an unbreakable bond. Yet, there was a flicker of uncertainty in my heart; his reaction was muted when I mentioned how we found solace in each other, drifting into peaceful slumber while wrapped in a warm embrace. It left me pondering what was left undefined in his thoughts. Did he understand the depth of that connection? Or was there something more beneath the surface that he chose not to reveal?

Losing track of time as the conversation danced between us. I didn’t even notice when my eyelids began to droop, heavy with fatigue. Suddenly, the gentle buzz of my phone jolted me awake. I blinked at the screen to find texts from Jay, sent an hour earlier. My heart sank; how could I have fallen asleep while texting? It felt so rude to leave him hanging.

I quickly typed out an apology, explaining my unintentional slumber. Just as I hit send, another message appeared: "I know. Now, sleep, little flower." How did he know? The thought lingered in my mind, but before I could respond, I succumbed to the drowsiness, drifting off into a peaceful sleep, the warmth of his words enveloping me like a tender embrace.