Y/N stood at the glass partition of the prison visitation room, heart pounding as she spotted him across the table. Rafe Cameron, the same reckless, dangerous boy she’d always known, now behind bars, staring at her with that impossible mix of arrogance and longing.
“You actually came,” he said, smirking despite the circumstances. “Most people wouldn’t waste their time on me now.”
“I’m not most people,” she shot back, leaning forward, pressing her hands against the glass. “And don’t think I’m here to lecture you. You already do enough of that yourself.”
His eyes darkened, and he leaned closer, pressing his forehead to the glass. “You always know how to get under my skin, Y/N. You know that, right?”
“I do,” she whispered, and her pulse skipped. She hated how much power he still had over her, even in cuffs and prison walls.
“You always smell like trouble,” he said, voice low, rough, and full of something she couldn’t name. “I like it.”
Y/N’s fingers itched to touch him, to feel him, but the glass separated them. She leaned closer anyway, letting her lips almost brush the barrier. “Maybe I’m the only one who can handle your ego,” she said, teasing but trembling with something hotter.
He groaned, running his hand along the side of his face, wishing he could reach her. “You always think you’re so clever, Y/N. But sitting here like this…” He paused, gaze locked on hers. “I’d give anything just to pull you into my arms right now.”
Her heart ached, but she smiled, biting her lip. “Then why don’t you?”
“I can’t,” he said, voice cracking slightly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it. Every damn second.”
Their eyes locked, heavy with need, with frustration, with a fire that no bars could contain. The world faded around them until it was just the two of them, faces inches apart, lips almost touching, breaths mingling across the cold glass.
“You’re insane,” she whispered, unable to stop herself from reaching out, pressing her palm flat against his.
“And you like it,” he growled, matching her hand with his own, leaning in so close she could feel the heat from his breath. “God, I love it.”
Time slipped away as they stayed like that, two souls straining against walls and cuffs, needing, wanting, and unable to let go. And when she finally had to leave, she pressed her forehead to his one last time.
“Don’t forget me,” she said softly.
“Never,” he whispered, voice low, almost a promise. “Not for a second.”
And even as the guards pulled her away, Y/N knew that the fire between them wasn’t going anywhere. It didn’t need freedom- it thrived on the tension, the impossibility, the raw, dangerous pull they shared.
"I'm not bound by petty notions of conscience." Holaa, I'm back. I'm so sorry for the long hiatus, due to busy busy crazy school. :( And oh, my laptop crashed. Insufficient memory space. No harddisk. Damn it.
