Don't you look at me like that, it's just too real. His dark eyes search mine, pleading, but I can’t let them linger. If I do, I might break. The wind is sharp against my bare arms as we step further into the night, away from everything I’m supposed to be. He reaches for my hand, and I let him, just for now. Just until the streetlights flicker behind us, just until the weight of my life fades into the silence between our footsteps. "Tell me something real," he says, voice soft, but I only smile, tilting my head toward the sky. "Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to."
His grip tightens, like he can hold me here, like I’m not already slipping. But I always slip. We walk until the city hums into the background, the noise of my thoughts finally quieting. His lips brush against mine-gentle, patient-but I pull back, tasting the words I can't say. "It's late," I whisper, even though I wish the night would stretch forever. "You don’t have to go back, Eleanor," he tells me, but we both know that’s not true. So I shake my head, stepping away, pulling my jacket tighter around me. "You knew what this was."
His jaw clenches, but he doesn't stop me as I turn. He won’t follow—he never does. Because no matter how much he wants me, I’ll never be his.
Just a secret. One he’ll never forget.
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