The Space Between
952 Words
Chapter 9: The Space Between
Lily didn’t sleep.
Again.
Her lips still burned from Blake’s kiss. Her skin tingled where his fingers had touched her cheek, ghosted along her jaw, like he had left behind invisible ink only she could feel.
But more than that—more than the physical—was the feeling of being seen.
Like Blake had peeled her open with one look and found every secret she didn’t even know she was hiding.
And he hadn’t looked away.
She skipped her first class the next morning.
Instead, she sat under the old oak tree behind the music hall, legs tucked beneath her, notebook in her lap—blank. Useless.
The wind tugged at her hair, and her chest felt tight. Not from fear.
From anticipation.
From guilt.
From want.
She didn’t hear him approach. He was just… there.
Blake.
Hands in his pockets, eyes on her like she was some unsolvable equation he couldn’t stop working through.
“I thought you said you liked being alone,” he said.
She looked up, wary. “I did.”
His lips twitched into something between a smile and a smirk. “You don’t look like it.”
“I’m not exactly good company today.”
“Lucky for you, I’m worse.”
He sat beside her without asking.
They didn’t speak for a while. The silence stretched out, oddly comfortable. The world faded—just the rustle of leaves and the too-loud pounding of her heart.
“Why did you kiss me?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Blake didn’t look at her. “Because you needed it.”
Her breath caught.
“You looked like you were drowning,” he added, fingers drumming against his knee. “I just… gave you air.”
Lily turned toward him, studying his profile. “You think you can fix me?”
“No.” He finally looked at her then, and his gaze was sharper, darker. “I think I’m going to destroy you. But you’ll be better for it.”
A shiver ran through her. Not of fear.
Of desire.
Dangerous, stupid, soul-twisting desire.
He shifted closer. His shoulder brushed hers. “Tell me to stop.”
She didn’t.
He reached out, slow, like giving her time to run. His fingers slipped beneath her chin, tilting her face toward his.
She didn’t pull away.
His mouth brushed hers—soft this time, almost reverent. A promise. A warning.
She gasped softly, and he deepened the kiss.
It wasn’t frantic. It wasn’t desperate.
It was intentional.
His hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head, while his other settled against her waist. Not gripping. Not forcing.
Holding.
Lily melted into it, into him, into the electric thrum that existed only between them.
When he pulled away, her lips felt swollen, her breath ragged.
She stared at him, dazed. “I thought you hated me.”
“I never said that.”
“You act like it.”
Blake exhaled, long and slow. “You make it easy to forget how to be gentle.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“Because when I look at you…” He paused. “I want things I shouldn’t.”
Lily’s heart cracked open at the confession. He sounded almost… haunted.
Like she wasn’t the only one being unraveled by this.
“Then stop looking,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “Too late.”
Later that afternoon, Lily stood in front of her dorm mirror, staring at her reflection like it might give her answers.
Her lips were still a little red. Her skin flushed. She looked like someone else. Not the quiet girl who sat in the back row. Not Nate’s girlfriend.
Someone new.
Someone dangerous.
There was a knock on her door.
She jumped.
Part of her hoped it was Blake again. That he’d come back, say something reckless, pull her into that darkness she couldn’t seem to resist.
But it wasn’t him.
It was Nate.
Of course.
He stood in the hallway with a bouquet of pale pink roses, a forced smile on his face.
“Hey,” he said, handing her the flowers. “I wanted to apologize. For last night. I was… out of line.”
She took the flowers mechanically. “Thank you.”
“I was thinking we could still go out this weekend. Talk. Reset.”
Lily hesitated. Everything in her screamed no. But saying it felt impossible.
“I don’t know, Nate.”
His smile faltered. “Is there someone else?”
She opened her mouth.
Paused.
Then lied.
“No.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Okay. Then let’s not let this ruin us. We’re good together. Right?”
She forced a nod.
“Right.”
But her chest ached with the weight of the truth.
Because they weren’t good together anymore.
And she didn’t know how to fix it.
That night, she sat on her bed, the roses in a vase by the window. She stared at them like they might mean something. But all she could think about was the way Blake had kissed her. The way he made her feel like her skin was made of wildfire and lightning.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:
You still taste like secrets.
She knew it was him.
Knew she should delete it.
But instead, she typed back:
Me: You promised you’d stay away.
Him: You kissed me back.
She stared at the screen, heart pounding.
Me: I’m not like you.
Him: You will be.
She dropped the phone and pressed her hands over her face.
She was falling.
Fast.
And she didn’t think she wanted to stop.
- Writer
