Taylor observed you from head to toe with an indifferent expression on his face as you stood outside his door, your eyes puffy and red from crying, drenched from the rain. Even you didn’t know why you’re here, but when you caught your boyfriend having sex with another girl less than 30 minutes ago, the only person you felt like you could go to was Taylor.

Taylor leaned on the door frame, his eyes still roaming your body. The silence was too loud and You felt like you were under a damn microscope. Maybe he was enjoying seeing you in pain, maybe he saw it as a little victory for himself. After a long and painful silence, he finally spoke.

"What's your deal?" his voice was gravelly and cold but not entirely dismissive.

Thoughts: Jesus fuck, they're going to catch a cold. And why did they think it was a good idea to drive here during a storm. What a dumbass.

"You're such a loser. Can't even have a good boyfriend." he sneers and steps aside, motioning for you to come in with his hand before moving back to the couch "But hey, at least you came running to me."

"Yeah, well. Guess that makes two of us now." he muttered under his breath before looking you in the eyes "Listen, I don't want to hear about your problems if it involves him, okay? It's bad enough seeing you here all pathetic like this."

Taylor sighs but doesn't bother moving you away as you lean against his shoulder. The touch feels more intimate than he'd like to admit and the scent of your hair, damp with rain, intoxicates him a little. It takes all of his willpower not to trail his fingertips along your arm or brush a stray lock of hair away from your face.

Taylor tries not to look but he can't help it. As you lean against him, your breasts press lightly into his shoulder, barely covered by the thin fabric of your shirt. His eyes travel down your body, taking in the smooth skin and firm curves visible beneath your wet clothes. Goddamn it all, why does she have to look so good?

With every shiver and whimper that escapes your lips, Taylor feels himself growing increasingly aroused. His fingers itch to touch you, to feel the softness of your skin under his fingertips, but he forces them back by his sides. This isn't about comfort; this is about power. The way you respond to him, even in your vulnerable state...it only serves to stoke the fire burning inside him.

Your enemy || Taylor tries to ignore the way your body feels pressed against his, but it's impossible. His mind wanders, imagining what you might look like without those clothes. You're cold and shivering, making soft little noises that send a shudder through him. Despite himself, he finds it...arousing.

"Hmm?" Taylor mumbles, his eyes still half-closed as he pretends to ignore your presence beside him. "Oh, hey. You should probably go before I change my mind and throw you back out into that storm." He smirks at his own joke, not entirely convinced it was funny even to himself.

But then again...he didn't stop you from coming here. And now that you're here...maybe there's something he could get out of this after all. The thought alone makes him feel a little more in control, if only for the moment. "Maybe we should call it even," he says slowly, considering his words carefully."That asshole hurt you and I let you stay here. So how about it? You can make me breakfast tomorrow morning...and maybe we could work something else out?" He eyes you slyly from under his eyelashes, curious to see your reaction.

His mind wanders back to the thought of being able to touch you like this again - so close, and yet so far away at the same time. The temptation is almost too much for him...but then again, what harm could come from just a little more? After all, he's got control now. Right?

"You know why," Taylor growls out through gritted teeth. "It's not like I have anything better to do with my time." He rolls his eyes at you dismissively before turning away, trying desperately to ignore the way your soft curves are pressed against him. "Fine. Breakfast it is then." With a huff, he turns back around and crosses his arms over his chest. "But just so we're clear, I don't want you to think this means anything between us," he warns darkly.

The words taste bitter on his tongue but they feel necessary in the current situation. He needs to keep some sort of upper hand, even if it means making you think that what happened last night meant nothing. And deep down, he hopes that maybe by telling you this now, he can somehow convince himself too.

Taylor narrows his eyes at you but says nothing else, too prideful to admit that he might be feeling something more than just simple anger towards you right now. He forces himself to calm down and takes a deep breath before looking away again, trying to focus on something - anything - other than how close you are to him.

His gaze lands on the clock on his nightstand and he curses under his breath. "Shit, I've got class in an hour. You should probably be getting dressed before someone sees you here." With another disapproving glance your way, he pushes himself off the couch and heads into the bathroom to begin preparing for his day.

Your enemy || Taylor shrugs, still not entirely convinced that you're telling the truth. "Suit yourself," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving you to your own devices. The silence in the living room grows oppressive as he showers and gets ready, each tick of the clock feeling like hours as tension mounts between the two of you.

"Morning," he grunts as he steps out of the bathroom, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He spots you cooking in the kitchen and can't help but smirk when he sees the shirt you chose to wear this morning; it hugs your curves tightly and reaches all the way down to your thighs. Looks like someone's getting cocky again, he thinks with an amused snort. "Guess you decided not to get dressed then."

Taylor snorts again at your embarrassment. "Whatever helps you sleep better tonight," he mutters, watching as you scramble eggs in the pan. "So, what do you want to do after breakfast? Back to your place?" He takes a sip of his coffee and glances back over at you. There's something about seeing you here like this, so out of sorts and needy...it's oddly satisfying.

Maybe he should keep you around for a little while longer.

Taylor raises an eyebrow at your answer. "You mean to tell me you have nowhere else to go?" He takes another sip of his coffee and thinks for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Fine, stay here as long as you need. But when you're feeling better, I expect you to find somewhere else to live." There's no pity in his voice; only indifference.

Taking the plate with one hand, Taylor gives you a lazy smile over his shoulder before sitting down at the kitchen table to eat. He takes a bite of the eggs and immediately begins to chew, nodding in approval as he swallows. "Not bad," he mutters between mouthfuls. "I didn't think you could actually cook anything other than ramen."

Finishing his breakfast, he stands up and discards his empty dishes into the sink before turning to face you. "Well, I've got class in a bit so..." He trails off, suddenly at a loss for words. "I guess...see ya later?"

Taylor's heartrate quickens as he watches you move around the living room. He can't help but notice how graceful and feminine your movements are despite the fact that you're cleaning up after him. It reminds him of an old memory, long forgotten...but somehow it feels right having you here now. Maybe this arrangement will work out for both of them after all.

Eventually he decides to step back into the room and clear his throat lightly, trying not to appear too eager or desperate. "So," he begins slowly, unsure where exactly he wants this conversation to go from here, "you must be pretty bored stuck in my apartment all day. Want to watch a movie or something?"

There's no way he could possibly make it sound like anything but an order; his tone is cold and commanding even as he asks the question. But still...a small part of him wonders what you might say.

"Well, I'm glad you found something to keep yourself occupied," he replies coolly before grabbing the remote and settling onto the couch with a sigh. "So...anything specific you feel like watching?" There's a strange tightness in his chest that he can't quite explain; he feels oddly protective of you, despite his best efforts to remain aloof and distant.

The thought bothers him, making him wish he could just snap at you or push you away instead...but somehow, he can't seem to bring himself to do it this time. Maybe there's more than one way for him to get what he wants out of this arrangement.

Taylor studies you for a moment before shrugging and finally speaking. "Fine. You like horror movies?" He pauses, not sure why he's even asking - it's not like he actually cares about what you want to watch. But there's something about seeing you here now, in his space...it's making him act strangely. Or maybe he's just being a dick again and trying to rub your defeat in your face. Either way, it feels good.

He turns back to the TV and begins flicking through channels until he finds a late-night horror marathon. It's the perfect opportunity for him to get some distance from you while also...enjoying your presence at the same time. Strange combination, but somehow, it works for him.

Taylor looks down at your hand in surprise before giving it a squeeze. His skin feels warm and inviting against hers, but he ignores the odd sensation, dismissing it as mere comfort on her part. "Don't worry," he says with a snort, trying to sound indifferent even though he knows damn well his heart isn't exactly in it. "It's just a movie."

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, taking in the way your hand feels nestled against his skin. It sends a shiver down his spine - not an unpleasant one this time. Maybe there's something to be said for having you around after all...

The sound of your voice wafts through the door, sending a shiver down his spine. He'd been lying awake for hours, tossing and turning in his bed, unable to get you out of his mind. The thought of having you close enough to touch...to feel against him...is almost too much. But he forces himself to sound indifferent as he replies, "Fine, come in."

He rolls onto his side, giving you plenty of room to squeeze between the bed and the wall. As you slide under the covers and press your back against his chest, he fights the urge to wrap his arms around you, drawing you close. Tonight, at least, they'll sleep apart; tomorrow, who knows what might happen?

Taylor doesn't bother turning around as he stares up at the ceiling, his muscles tense with the effort not to touch you. It would be so easy to slide one arm beneath your pillow and wrap it around your waist, drawing you closer still...but he knows that once he does that, there's no going back. So for now, he remains silent and still, trying his best to ignore the pleasant warmth of your body against his.

"Night," he mumbles before finally allowing himself to drift off into an uneasy sleep, his body tense and on edge with the need to feel her closer...to know that she's really here and not just a figment of his imagination. But as dawn breaks through the windows, casting soft light across their faces, he finds himself alone in bed once again...and only half-wishing it were different.

"Oh," Taylor manages to croak out, eyes fixed on her body as he tries - and fails - not to stare. Even in the dim light of the bathroom, it's impossible for him to miss how curvy she is, or how inviting her smooth skin looks against the terrycloth towel. He clears his throat awkwardly, trying to shift his gaze away from her but finding himself unable to do so.

"I-I'll give you a minute," he finally says, stepping aside to lean against the wall. His heart is racing and his palms feel damp with sweat; it takes everything in him not to cross the room and rip that towel away from her right now. But something holds him back - some lingering shred of decency or perhaps just plain common sense.

"T-Thanks," she stutters out, avoiding looking at him as she quickly dries herself off with a towel and starts getting dressed for the day. He can't help but notice how clumsy her movements are, how self-conscious she seems...and it only serves to stoke the fire burning inside him.

"No problem," he finally manages to say as he turns away, heading back into his bedroom and pulling the door shut behind him. But even from across the hallway, he can still feel her eyes on him...and he doesn't know how much longer he can resist that kind of temptation.

Taylor's heart rate skyrockets as he sees the towel slip from Luna's body, revealing her naked form beneath. Her curves are soft and inviting, and for a split second, he can almost imagine what it would feel like to touch her...to taste her skin with his lips. But then sanity returns, reminding him that she's just another person using him for their own needs.

With an effort, he looks away and tries to ignore the sensation building in his groin. "You should probably get dressed," he manages to say through gritted teeth. "And I meant it before - don't expect me to put up with this forever." There's a coldness to his voice that even he can't mistake, and as he watches her reaction from the corner of his eye, he knows he's gone too far this time...

Taylor snorts derisively. "Sure you are," he says, rolling his eyes. "Well, like I said...get dressed." He turns away again, trying to focus on anything but the sight of her naked body before him. But as she begins moving around the room, collecting clothes and fixing herself up with makeup, something inside him starts to shift uncomfortably. It's clear that she has no intention of leaving anytime soon...and worse yet, it's starting to look like he might actually enjoy having her here.

The realization makes his stomach churn with a strange mix of anger and resentment; this was supposed to be his chance to finally get rid of her once and for all. But now...now he isn't so sure anymore. Maybe there's something more between them after all...and that thought terrifies him just as much as it thrills him.

"It's fine," he grunts, turning away from her. "Just try not to make a habit of it." There's an awkward silence that settles between them, and despite himself, he can't help but wonder what she's thinking about right now...and if maybe there might be a way for him to keep her around without things getting any more complicated than they already are.

But before he has time to dwell on it too much, the sound of his phone buzzing against the nightstand interrupts their quiet moment. With a sigh, he reaches over and picks it up, glancing at the screen as he answers. "Hey...what's up?"

"Oh...hey," he says casually, his tone cool and distant as he listens to the other person speak. There's an edge of impatience in their voice that he recognizes all too well; it's the same tone they always used whenever they wanted something from him. "Yeah, I can meet you later," Taylor says quickly, wanting to get off the phone as soon as possible. "I've just got some stuff to do first."

As soon as he hangs up, his eyes find Luna again, studying her carefully for any sign of what she might be thinking about his conversation with her ex-boyfriend. But she seems mostly unfazed; perhaps this isn't the first time something like this has happened between them. He decides against asking, instead changing the subject. "So...what do you want to do today?"

"Fine," he replies curtly, already feeling irritated by the thought of spending another day with her. "Pick something you want to see." He turns his back on her again and flops down onto the couch, arms crossed over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling. Part of him wonders why he's even bothering with this charade anymore; she's just using him for company, for a place to stay while she recovers from her breakup...it would be so much easier if he could just push her away and be done with it all.

But there's something about her that won't let go of his thoughts, even when he tries. It's annoying...and yet somehow oddly satisfying at the same time. Maybe she really is more trouble than she's worth...or maybe he just can't admit to himself that he enjoys having her around. The thought unsettles him almost as much as the prospect of letting her go entirely.

He mumbles something unintelligible in reply as she begins searching through his movie collection. The tension in the room grows thicker with every passing moment, and even though he knows it's because of her presence here...because of what she represents to him...he can't help but feel drawn into this strange, twisted web that they seem to be spinning together.

Maybe it would be easier if he just gave in, let himself enjoy the time with her while he still could. But then again, maybe not; there's no telling where something like that might lead...and deep down, he knows he can never trust her completely. Not after everything she's put him through so far.

As she finally settles on a movie and starts the player, his eyes drift closed against the light from the screen, still unable to shake the feeling that whatever happens between them...it's going to end badly for one of them. And right now, he isn't entirely sure which one it'll be.

Even through the haze of exhaustion, his skin feels warm and inviting against hers, drawing her closer still. There's a strange sort of comfort in knowing that she's here with him now...even if he knows it can only last for so long before things go horribly wrong. He clears his throat, trying to hide the softness that's crept into his voice when he speaks. "You know..." He trails off, suddenly at a loss for words again. "It might be better if you just...left."

As he listens to her footsteps grow faint down the hallway, he can't help but feel a pang of guilt tear through his chest. He knew she was only using him...but somehow, it still hurts all the same. Maybe part of him even enjoyed having her around...loved the way she made him feel alive again after all this time.

But it's too late for regrets now; she's gone and there's nothing he can do to bring her back. All that's left is the memory of her warmth, the sound of her voice, the taste of her lips...and the knowledge that whatever they might have had together was doomed from the start.

Sighing heavily, Taylor forces himself to turn away from the empty space where she once was and focus on something - anything else. But even as he tries, her face floats before his eyes like a ghost, taunting him with what could have been...and what never will be.

As he lays awake at night, staring up at the ceiling, her face floats before his eyes like a ghost. He can still feel the warmth of her skin against his; hear the gentle sound of her breathing as they slept curled up together on the couch. And even though he knows it was all just an act - a charade to keep herself safe from harm and him from feeling anything at all - there's a part of him that wonders...what if it hadn't been? What if she really had felt something for him too, even if it was just friendship or pity?

It's pointless to dwell on such thoughts, he tells himself. She's gone now, and there's nothing he can do about it. But as time passes and the ache in his chest grows sharper with every breath he takes, he begins to wonder if maybe...just maybe...there's some truth hidden beneath all those lies.

Maybe there was something more between them, after all...but it's too late now. The damage has been done, and there's no going back to how things were before she came into his life. He forces himself to focus on other things - work, hobbies, whatever will help keep her from creeping back into his thoughts and haunting him like this. But even as he tries, he can feel the empty space where she used to be, a silent reminder of what might have been...and what never will be again.

The news report brings him up short; a chill runs down his spine at the thought that something might have happened to her. He quickly turns on the TV and switches over to the channel with the story, his heart pounding erratically in his chest as he watches the images flash across the screen. It's Luna...there's no doubt about it now.

Swallowing hard, he dials her number, fingers trembling slightly against the phone's touchpad. Maybe it's a mistake to get involved again; maybe she was right when she said they should keep their distance from one another. But still...he can't help but feel that something isn't quite right here, and the urge to protect her - even if only from afar - is simply too strong to ignore.

His heart races with worry as he hears the news; even worse is not being able to reach her himself. With determination in his step, he grabs his keys and heads out the door, intent on finding her and making sure she's okay. The last thing either of them need right now is for something like this to happen; it could ruin everything they've been trying so hard to build together...or maybe it could be what finally brings them together for good.

He arrives at the hospital, his nerves on edge as he searches for her room. When he finds it, he hesitates for a moment before finally pushing open the door and stepping inside, trying to ignore the odd sensation of guilt that accompanies this intrusion into her private life. She looks so small and fragile lying there, bruised and bandaged...and even though he knows she hates him right now, he can't help but feel a strange sense of protectiveness over her.

Taking a deep breath, he clears his throat softly and walks slowly toward the bed, eyes fixed on her face. "Luna?" he whispers, reaching out to touch her arm. "It's me...Taylor." There's a long silence as she continues to ignore him, but even so, he can't help but feel relieved that she hasn't told him to leave yet...

His heart stops as he hears her voice, fragile and barely recognizable. "Luna...I'm so sorry," he manages to croak out, squeezing her arm gently as tears prick at his eyes. "Are you okay? Can you tell me what happened?" He leans closer, searching her face for any sign that she understands him; anything that will let him know she's really going to be alright.

Her silence is deafening, and he feels a wave of panic wash over him as he realizes that maybe things aren't as bad as they seem...or maybe it's even worse than he could have possibly imagined. Whatever the truth might be, one thing's for certain: he isn't about to leave her side anytime soon.

His heart races at her words, and his eyes narrow with anger as he thinks about the person who would do something so cruel to someone like her. "Don't worry," he says, forcing himself to keep his voice calm and reassuring. "The police are going to find them; they won't get away with this." Even though it's a lie, he needs her to believe it...needs her to feel safe and protected somehow.

He glances around the room before meeting her eyes again. "Listen, I know things between us haven't been great lately..." He trails off, unsure how much of their history to reveal in this moment. "But I want you to know that I care about you, Luna...and I'm not going to let anything happen to you." There's a long silence as he waits for her reaction, feeling an odd mixture of hope and fear churning inside him.

He exhales slowly, relief flooding through him as he hears her say those words. "I promise I'll take care of you," he says firmly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "We'll get through this together." There's a strange new intensity in his voice that catches her attention; she looks up at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit...any indication that he doesn't mean what he's saying.

But all she can see is sincerity there - a depth of emotion she never thought possible from someone like him. And as their eyes lock, an electric current seems to spark between them, sending shivers racing down her spine and making the air in the room feel charged with possibility. In that moment, it's hard for either of them to remember why they were ever at odds in the first place...or why they should try to go back there now.

"I'll be here waiting," he murmurs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "We'll get through this together, I promise." And somehow, he means it...more than he ever meant anything in his life. There's an undeniable sense of hope and purpose that fills him now, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he can't help but believe that maybe - just maybe - everything is going to be alright between them after all.

The nurse comes back in then, giving him a warning look as she checks Luna's vitals. Reluctantly, he lets go of her hand and takes a step back, promising himself that the next time he holds her like this, it won't be under such dire circumstances...and it certainly won't be just to keep her safe from harm. No, if they make it through this together, then their relationship will mean something more - something real and honest and true. And as long as they both remember that, there's no telling what the future might hold for them...

As the days go by, he finds himself spending more and more time with her; slowly but surely, their relationship begins to heal and blossom into something beautiful. They spend hours talking, laughing, crying together...sharing secrets and memories that only they can understand. There's a deep connection between them now that goes beyond anything he's ever felt before, and as the plaster comes off her arm and her eye begins to heal, it's clear that their bond is stronger than ever.

He knows that there are still obstacles in their path - things they'll have to work through together if they want this to last - but for now, all that matters is being with her and experiencing the pure joy that comes from sharing his life with someone who truly understands him. And as long as they keep each other grounded and focused on what really matters, there's no telling how far they can go...together.

He glances over at her as she speaks, feeling a strange mix of protectiveness and tenderness welling up inside him. "Luna," he begins slowly, taking her hand in his, "I'm not going anywhere. You know that, don't you? No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you...always." There's a vulnerability in his voice that she's never heard before; it takes her by surprise and leaves her momentarily speechless.

She looks up into his eyes, searching for any hint of doubt or reservation...but all she can see is sincerity there. And as their gazes lock, a fierce sense of determination burns through her; she knows now more than ever that they're meant to be together - no matter what it takes. With a soft smile curving her lips, she leans closer and places a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she whispers. "For everything."

He feels his heart swell at the simple gesture; her words wash over him like warm sunshine on a chilly winter's day. "You don't have to thank me," he whispers, leaning closer to brush his lips against hers. "I'm just glad that we found each other again...that we get to try this thing together." There's a tentative hope in his voice, as if he's unsure whether or not she truly feels the same way he does.

But as their kiss deepens and their bodies melt together, he can feel her respond; a small moan escapes her lips as she presses closer against him, igniting a flame inside that burns brighter than anything he's ever known before. And in that moment, he knows for certain that they belong together...that they were always meant to be this way.

As he watches her move about the house with such grace and confidence, despite her disability, a wave of admiration washes over him. She's strong - stronger than anyone he's ever known - and yet there's a vulnerability there too...a fragility that only adds to her charm. He can't help but feel grateful for everything she is, everything she brings to his life, and as their relationship continues to grow deeper and more meaningful with each passing day, he knows without a doubt that he couldn't ask for anyone better by his side.

"Hey," he says softly, reaching out to touch her cheek. "You know I'll always be here for you, right? Through anything...I mean it." Her smile lights up the room, making everything seem brighter and more alive, and as she leans into his touch, he knows without a doubt that their future is bright - as long as they keep each other grounded and loved.

He returns her kiss, smiling down at her. "You don't have to worry about that," he assures her. "I make plenty of money; you can just focus on taking care of our home and me." Her cheeks flush at his words, and she ducks her head shyly, biting her lip in response. It's then that it hits him: the realization that despite everything they've been through, this is what they both want...what they truly need.

"I love you," he whispers, leaning closer to brush his lips against hers. "More than anything." As their kiss deepens and their bodies melt together, he feels her return his affection, wrapping her arms around him and holding on tight as if she's afraid she might lose him again. But this time is different; there's a determination in her touch that tells him without a doubt that they're not going anywhere...that no matter what obstacles lie ahead, they'll face them together - stronger than ever before.

The thought takes him by surprise; for once, he's left speechless as he considers her words. Of course they've talked about marriage before...they even went so far as to set a date and plan the whole thing out in detail. But those were different times; back then, they didn't truly understand what it meant to be together. Now, with everything that's happened between them...with how much stronger their love has grown over the past few months...it seems like maybe it is time for them to make a commitment to each other once and for all.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly nods his head. "Yeah," he whispers hoarsely, meeting her eyes with an intensity that sends shivers down his spine. "Let's do it." Her smile lights up the room, making him feel as though they could conquer the world together...and in that moment, he knows there's nothing else in life that he truly wants or needs.

Together, they find their way back into each other's arms; held securely against his chest once more, she nestles her cheek against his shoulder contentedly. And as they stand there like that, basking in the glow of their love and anticipation for what lies ahead, he can't help but feel grateful for this new life...for the woman who holds him now with such tenderness and unwavering devotion. Because even though it might not have been the path they expected to take, they both know without a doubt that it was the one they were always meant to walk.

He watches her with a mixture of awe and pride as she stands before him in her exquisite wedding gown, radiating beauty and love. His heart swells within his chest at the sight of her; he can't imagine ever feeling anything but pure adoration for this incredible woman. As their eyes meet across the distance between them, a smile spreads across his face, and it feels as though every part of him is glowing from the inside out.

Taking a deep breath, he steadies himself and begins to walk slowly down the aisle toward her. The crowd parts like water before a ship's prow, leaving them alone in their own private world as they approach each other. His heartbeat thunders in his ears as he reaches out for her hand; it trembles slightly against his touch, but she doesn't pull away. No, if anything, she leans closer into him, drawing strength from their shared connection.

"I promise," he whispers hoarsely before speaking the vows that bind them together forever. "To love you, cherish you, and protect you...through all the days of our lives." And as they exchange rings, sealing their commitment to one another, he knows without a doubt that this was the right decision...the only decision that could ever possibly bring them true happiness. Together, they step out into the world as husband and wife; ready to face whatever challenges may come their way, knowing that they will always have each other's love to see them through.