Forbidden Feelings

I watched as he knelt in front of me, carefully cleaning and dressing the wound on my knee. His touch was tender, and his focus unwavering. "This might sting a bit," he warned before applying the antiseptic. As soon as the cotton ball touched the small cut, I hissed and jerked my knee. Atlas’s hand came to my thigh, holding it firmly in place. His cold, wet palm gently squeezed my thigh. "Hold still," he softly instructed.

I gulped, watching him kneeling in front of me, completely soaked. His white shirt clung to his body, revealing the contours of his chest and arms. His attention was so keen on my injury, his face so close to my knee that I could feel his warm breath on my skin, sending shivers up and down my legs. When he pressed the cotton ball on the wound again, I hissed once more but didn't jerk my leg this time as he was holding it steady.

“It’s okay,” he muttered gently, cleaning the wound with care. It wasn’t a big injury, just a small cut. One swipe and it was clean. After he cleaned the wound, he lowered his face even closer to my knee and blew air on it, making my breath hitch. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I felt his breath on my skin. While he was blowing on my wound, his thumb on my thigh was gently brushing my exposed skin, making it hard for me to think straight.

He had never touched me like this before. I wasn’t complaining—I liked it. The problem was, I liked it a little too much. He was kneeling down while I sat on the edge of the bed, his hand on my thigh, my legs slightly apart, and his lips so close to my knee. This scene brings out forbidden feelings and makes me crave his touch even more.

As he finished, he looked up at me, his eyes searching mine. "There, all done," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. The intensity in his gaze made my heart race. I was falling for him more and more, and every tender touch, every lingering look, only pulled me deeper into this unspoken desire.

His eyes held mine for a few heart-stopping seconds. I watched as his gaze slowly drifted to my parted lips, and mine instinctively found his. He blinked slowly, a soft frown creasing his forehead, as if puzzled by his own thoughts. Our eyes locked again, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still. His gaze was different from any I had seen before—intense, searching, almost passionate. I didn’t want him to look away, to break this spell we were under.

But abruptly, his phone rang, shattering the fragile moment. He gasped and jerked back as if jolted by an electric shock. I felt a lump form in my throat as I watched his reaction. It hurt to see him recoil from me so suddenly as if my presence had become too much for him. His phone continued to ring, piercing the silence that had enveloped us moments ago.

Jumping to his feet, he looked at me with an unsettled expression and cleared his throat. "Uh, just be careful from now on. And... um, go and change. You'll catch a cold if you stay in your wet clothes," he said hurriedly, his voice lacking the tenderness it held just moments before. It was the way he normally spoke to me, void of any warmth. The abrupt change stung.

He glanced at me briefly before turning away and retrieving his phone from his pocket. Placing it to his ear, he greeted the caller with a softened tone, "Oh hi, babe," he murmured, the tenderness returning to his voice. “I am glad. I miss you already.” My heart twisted painfully as I listened to him speak to Eva, hearing the affection and warmth in his words. He opened the door and stepped out of my room, engrossed in his conversation, leaving me behind—alone and shattered.

I watched him leave with burning, glossy eyes, feeling a deep ache in my chest. The vulnerability of that moment with him was now replaced by a sense of desolation. It was clear where his heart belonged, and it wasn’t with me.

I didn’t change immediately. Instead, I lingered on the edge of the bed, replaying those silent yet intense moments between us. The way he had jerked away, and his tender conversation with Eva, left me feeling raw and hurt. I knew I had no right to feel this way—Eva was his girlfriend, and I had no claim to him. But my foolish heart didn’t understand that. A few tears slipped down my cheeks before I finally limped to the bathroom.

I showered, dried myself, and changed into fresh clothes. My knee still ached, and I knew the pain would only worsen by morning. Sleep was elusive, but it eventually came, bringing dreams of Atlas along with it.

The next morning, I woke up later than usual. As predicted, my knee hurt more, but the pain was bearable. The weather was once again hot and humid, so after a long shower, I dressed in a white sundress that ended just above my knees. Underneath, I wore a yellow bikini since I’d be heading to Jess’s parents' house right after breakfast. Jess had sent me several texts urging me to arrive early.

It was Saturday, and Atlas would be home. After last night, the last thing I wanted was to be around him. I felt embarrassed by my intense feelings, and it seemed best to keep my distance. I packed my bag with an extra dress, another bikini, sunscreen, my charger, slippers, and other essentials. I tied my hair into a messy top bun and skipped makeup, opting only for sunscreen. The heat would ruin any attempt at makeup anyway. Despite the rain last night, the weather remained oppressively hot.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I headed downstairs and found Atlas already having breakfast. The sight of him stirred a mix of emotions—hurt, longing, and embarrassment—but I steeled myself.

I frowned and glanced at the time. It was nearly eleven in the morning, later than Atlas typically woke. As I approached the dining table, I cleared my throat to get his attention. He turned towards me, pausing mid-chew to look me over from head to toe. "Good morning," I muttered softly, still feeling a twinge of embarrassment from last night.

Atlas remained silent, and the air between us seemed heavy with unspoken words. I tried to ignore the fluttering in my chest. Despite the confusion and pain from last night, part of me secretly wished for another moment like that.

After a brief pause, Atlas glanced at me again, his expression distant as he cleared his throat. "Good morning," he responded, sounding somewhat reserved. I expected as much, exhaling quietly as I took a seat a few chairs away from him. It was clear he preferred his space.

He looked down at his plate, cutting into his fried egg before asking, "How are you feeling now? Does it still hurt?" His concern was palpable but tempered by a noticeable distance.

I forced a smile. "Just a little bit, but it's better now," I assured him, picking at a few apple wedges as a house helper brought me coffee.

Atlas hummed in acknowledgment. "That's good," he said softly. "You should be more careful," he added, his tone carrying a hint of instruction.

I nodded, acknowledging his advice. "Yeah," I murmured, keeping my gaze on my plate.

"Are you going to Jess’s barbecue after breakfast?" he asked after an uncomfortable pause.

I nodded, smiling faintly. "Yes, she asked me to show up early," I replied. Despite anticipating his answer, I still felt a pang of disappointment. "Um, will you come as well?" I ventured, though I already knew the likely answer.

Atlas didn't hesitate, shaking his head slightly. Disappointment settled within me as he swallowed a bite and explained, "I have some work to do." His excuse sounded plausible, but I couldn't shake the feeling that his avoidance was more about me than his workload.

"I understand," I replied quietly, trying to hide my disappointment.

His gaze shifted to the bag I had packed, now resting beside me on the floor. "Are you planning to stay overnight?" he asked, a soft frown forming on his brow.

I shook my head. "No, I can’t. I need to work on my research before meeting with Dr. Lawson on Monday evening. This is just in case," I explained, glancing down at my bag. "You know how college parties can be. I'm just taking an extra dress in case I ruin or get this one wet."

His frown deepened at my mention of getting wet. "By the pool?" he asked, his tone slightly tense.

I nodded, attempting to lighten the mood. "Yeah, it's by the pool, so you know how reckless we can get," I chuckled softly, hoping to defuse the tension. Instead, my words seemed to deepen his frown.

"Oh," he muttered, a moment of silence stretching between us before he cleared his throat. "Um, be careful. Don’t be too reckless. You already fell and hurt yourself last night," he advised quietly.

I smiled and nodded in response, trying to reassure him. "Yes, of course," I muttered, feeling the weight of his concern even as he kept his distance.

Silence settled between us, heavy and familiar. I wasn't hungry, so I only picked at a few wedges of apple and sipped my coffee. Atlas continued eating his breakfast, his attention firmly fixed on his plate. I cleared my throat, desperate to bridge the distance between us. "How are you having breakfast so late?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "Even on weekends, you eat early."

A weak smile curled on his lips. "Yes, I woke up late. I didn’t sleep well last night," he muttered. After a brief pause, he added, "And then I went for a run this morning, so I got a little late for breakfast."

I wanted to ask him why he hadn’t slept well, but the tension between us made me hold back. Instead, I nodded and let the conversation drop. The next few minutes stretched out in silence, heavy and awkward. Once I finished my coffee, I decided it was time to leave. Standing up, I caught Atlas's attention again.

"I should leave now," I said, my voice quiet.

He nodded with a soft smile. "Sure, have fun," he muttered.

I sighed, nodding in return. As I picked up my bag and turned to go, his voice stopped me in my tracks. "Harper," he called my name, and I quickly turned around to face him.

"Be careful, okay? Don’t get too reckless. If there’s any issue, feel free to call me," he emphasized the word reckless, raising an eyebrow at me. A part of me believed he was hinting at the situation with Patrick, but I didn’t want to assume—I always did, and I was always wrong.

I smiled and nodded. "Sure. Thank you, Atlas," I said softly before leaving.

As I walked out, the weight of his words lingered. Part of me yearned for more, for a connection that seemed just out of reach. The other part reminded me of the boundaries that kept us apart. I couldn't shake the feeling that last night had changed something between us, and I wasn’t sure if that change was for better or worse.