Phoebe turned to Irene, rain streaming through her hair, glistening like silver threads under the stormy sky. A flicker of mischief danced in her eyes, but there was something deeper there too—something raw. "See? Just us," she said softly, stepping closer.

  Before Irene could respond, Phoebe leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. The rain poured around them, drenching their clothes, but neither seemed to care. Phoebe's hands gripped Irene's arms, grounding them in the chaos of the storm.

  Then a crack of thunder shattered the moment. Irene jolted, her heart pounding as the electric air around them pressed down. She broke the kiss, stepping back, her chest heaving. "Phoebe, wait... I can't do this," she murmured, her voice shaky and uncertain.

  Phoebe's expression faltered, the fire in her eyes dimming into frustration. "What do you mean you can't do this?" she asked, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "You pull me in, Irene. And then you push me away. Over and over. Do you even know what you want?"

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Irene swallowed hard, the wind tangling her hair and sending chills down her spine. She felt trapped—by the storm, by her own fears, and by the intensity of the moment. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely rising above the howling wind. "It's just... everything feels like too much. Like we're walking into something we can't undo."

  "Too much?" Phoebe repeated, laughing bitterly as rain streaked down her face. "You're always so afraid of what could go wrong that you don't even give yourself the chance to be happy." Her voice cracked on the last word, though she tried to mask it with anger.

  "It's not that simple!" Irene shot back, her voice trembling. Her gaze darted to the dark woods surrounding them, as though someone—or something—might be watching. "You don't get it, Phoebe. You don't have to hide. I do. Every single day."

  Phoebe's expression softened, though hurt still lingered in her eyes. "Irene, I'm not asking you to shout it from the rooftops," she said, her tone quieter now. "I just... I want you to trust me. To trust us." She hesitated, her lips curving into a faint, defiant smirk. "Or is it the storm that's scaring you?"

  "It's not the storm," Irene said quickly, shaking her head. Rain dripped from her dark hair, clinging to her cheeks. "It's... everything. I don't want anyone to find us. I don't want to mess this up. I can't."

  Phoebe's jaw tightened as she let out a shaky breath. "Then stop treating me like I'm some kind of mistake," she said, her voice laced with hurt. "You keep saying you're scared of losing me, but you're the one pushing me away."

  A flash of lightning illuminated the scene, casting harsh shadows across their faces. Irene flinched as thunder roared through the air, shaking the ground beneath them.

  "I just need time," Irene said finally, her voice cracking under the weight of her own plea. "Please, Phoebe. I need to figure this out."

  Phoebe stared at her for a long moment, her arms falling limply to her sides. The fire in her eyes dulled into something quieter—something resigned. "Maybe you should figure it out on your own, then," she said, her voice low but firm. She stepped back, the space between them growing colder with every second. "Because I'm not going to wait forever, Irene."