Forbidden - Complete

*sighs* I can't really be writing now, I have tons of work to do. Which I'm not doing anyway, not really

Hey, who is? I've had a lazy day and I have two 6,000 essays to write.

lol

Brilliant.

Thanks

It really is good, dude!

He'd changed her. She knew that for a certainty. Changed, even more than she had been before, more than she'd anticipated, or expected. And it frightened her. She'd expected the actual deed of joining the Westside Alliance to have an effect on her, but she hadn't thought her mentor would affect her as well. But he had. Remembering him, the tone of his voice, the dark urgency in his half-hidden eyes, the way he had spoken the name he'd called her, she shivered. All that had done something to her; altered something deep within her. She'd thought she knew all the reasons, but now.....she wasn't sure. There was something more.

What was it? What had he done to her? She laughed, almost hysterically. She wasn't feeling this, she couldn't be. Sure, he was different, exotic, exciting, attractive......he'd enthralled her. But she couldn't let it be so. She shook her head, telling herself to snap out of it. He was her mentor, that's all.

Days passed, turning to weeks, turning to months. She determined to herself that she would feel nothing for Sean, that this would be strictly professional. And so her enthrallment changed. What still held her enchanted to him was his intensity, his passion for what they did. When she was in Westside, she felt alive. He made her feel alive. And her determination began to slack. She realised that she cared for him, that her detachment was likely to offend him, and that she didn't want to do so. Even if she had to ignore her feelings, surely she could get closer to him? As a friend? What harm could that cause?

And so she chose anew, and began to encourage his attempts to get to know her, reaching out to him in turn. Professionalism became something more, and the lines began to blur. More and more.

Livery Inn, Westside, mid 2450

Over a year had passed since Rún had remade her decision regarding Sean. Now, she couldn't think of any other way: it would be too alien. Distance was impossible with him. Despite the creeping feeling of disaster she had every time she prepared to go meet him, she couldn't stop. Couldn't tear herself away. This, it was a part of her now. A dangerous, reckless part, too deeply engrained to remove. And she loved it. So every time her mind screamed at her to give him up, she argued otherwise. He made her feel such joy, such freedom........she knew she meant something to him, too.....and there were all the reasons for joining the WA in the first place. She couldn't throw it all away. So she lied to herself, claiming all there was between them was friendship, and ignoring the way her body tingled whenever he would look at her, the emotions which would rise within her at the sight of him.

Like now. Another meeting, again at the inn which had become so familiar to her, its smoky aura and faded lights more homely than anything at Hesin Manor. She was already inside, sitting beside the fire. She glanced up as he entered, rain spraying in through the open door. He raised a hand to push his sopping hair backwards out of his eyes. His eyes met hers, and she tried her best to ignore the butterflies which suddenly blossomed in her stomach. Stop being so stupid, she thought, get a hold of yourself. Whatever this is.

The meeting passed, and after speaking for a long while afterwards, she realised it was time for her to return, before she was discovered missing.

"I have to leave...." she whispered, with regret. He nodded. Following her to the door, he held it open for her. He chuckled when he heard her swear at the torrential rain, knowing it was from him she'd learned those words.

He leaned forwards, using his body to shield hers from the rain, his hair becoming drenched and sticking to his face. A stray thought came to her, noticing this and the way his thin coat clung to his body: he really was attractive. She blushed. Noticing this, his hand crept up to caress her cheek, as he smiled. Her hand slipped upwards of its own accord, pushing his hair backwards but somehow entwining in it. He drew closer. And closer. Touching, their faces pressed together, and she realised with a shock that his lips were upon hers.

She started, but his hand was behind her, preventing her from pulling away. She only attempted to for a second. Then she simply let herself sink into his kiss, living for the moment, though she knew what they had just realised could not be.

He broke apart, looking at her apologetically.

"......I'm sorry....."

She pressed a finger to his lip to prevent him apologising.

"Don't be."

You = Great Writer

Thanks

AWESOME!!!

Thanks

Really Great. Is this just a short story?

Judging by your picture, I'm guessing you gave up and watched online?

It really is good, Lowster.

*Is jealous 'cause its better than mine*

I'm not quite sure of the length yet.

And yeah, I watch it online. In September, there were rumours the BBC might drop it, so I didn't see the point of waiting.

Well, the BBC might not pick up on it, so.....

so??? We watched it all online, and if they don't, I'll change my name back to BBC Hater

LMAO!

Hey, J&BS, you mentioned on the bbc site that you could post messages which are "too big" by clicking the post button more than once, but it still doesn't seem to be working. Just wondering exactly what you meant? Cheers.

Erm, well, it works for me. Erm.... *Bites lip* I have no idea what to say.

I would! MY MSN name was HATER OF THE BBC. And the message wss, Me and Jakey just love to hate it!

Are they showing it next year, now?

They sure as hell better!!!

Pippy wrote:

I would! MY MSN name was HATER OF THE BBC. And the message wss, Me and Jakey just love to hate it!

LMAO! Me too!

5 years had passed, altering Rún's life drastically. When she looked back on those 2 years, she could barely believe they had been hers; the memories seemed more like those of a character in a story, except for the fact that, of course, she'd have never heard such stories outside Westside. That character would be one she envied greatly. Her life now truthfully that of a captive, even if golden and luxurious, she longed for that small taste of freedom she'd once experienced. She longed to escape, to run wild through the dismal alleys of Westside, to drink and laugh and dance in the faded lighting of the Livery Inn once more. She longed to work actively for the WA, doing more than passing money; she longed for that rush of adrenaline and the feeling that she was really doing something, more than an ornament. She missed all of that. She missed the place, the people, the life.......she missed him.

She shook her head, forcing the thoughts away. Nostalgia and reminiscing, pointless. She could never go back. And the memories were only hurting her, when this was her life now.

Every day was exactly the same, meaningless, blurring into each other. Hours upon hours of preparing herself and her appearance, practicing the arts and talents she was encouraged to pursue, entertaining so-called important guests, making small talk about the few allowed topic of conversation with the other wives of Eastside. It would be a lifetime. She was trapped now, it could never change, however much she hated it. And she did hate it. All of it. Her new home, her new family, but most of all her husband, the man responsible for this life which was slowly eroding away her will and her spirit. The man who had cost her everything she had. She'd never believed herself capable of so much hate, before, but she'd never lost so much, never been so reduced.

This loathing had taken root within her much like her desperation at her life had 7 years earlier, growing deep until it filled her, urging her on to do something, anything, however reckless or dangerous it must be, because the idea of doing nothing was intolerable. She wanted to hurt him. Hurt him, humiliate him as he had done to her, taking away what he valued and cherished, except she couldn't. The price would be too high if ever discovered. But still, that urge was there. It drove her on, into considering doing something, even if it would never be known by any except herself. She would know, and it would be enough. It would have to be.

Slowly, the determination grew, and the question changed: not if she would do something, but what to do. The answer was blindingly clear. After all, she knew what was most unacceptable from a woman in her position. And so, she made her decision, every doubt she had over it driven away by her need to do so.
.............................................................................................................................................................................

Westside, 2456

And then she was back in Westside, treading the familiar paths which she thought she'd never walk again. It was madness, she knew that for certain, but she couldn't turn away. Not now. Every thought of the danger, every thought of how it wouldn't be fair......they were overshadowed.

She reached that same rundown apartment building, its banner of defiance still flying crimson in a slight breeze. She entered, crossing the threshold she'd believed she'd crossed for the last and final time. Memories of her last visit troubled her consciousness, but she forced them away. She couldn't regret this. She wouldn't let herself do so.

Her hand trembled as she knocked upon the door, she couldn't stop it from doing so. She withdrew it swiftly, and waited for a response.

Those few seconds felt an age. But finally he did answer, and they stood there, on opposite sides of the doorway, staring at each other. He, it was clear, had never thought to see her again; he'd believed honestly that he'd lost her. And she........she was amazed at how he'd altered. Of course, he would have changed in 5 years, she told herself. So had she. It'd have been strange otherwise, since they'd passed from 17 to 22 and from 19 to 24. But she hadn't expected him to darken. Not so much. She knew life as a Westsider was always hard, life as a high-ranking member of the WA dangerous and troubling, but she'd hoped that somehow it wouldn't affect him. Hoped in vain, it seemed. She realised then that for 5 years she'd been holding in her head the image of him as she'd left him.

"Rún."

The way he spoke her name was cold, detached, deliberately so. As emotionless as his expression as he watched her.

"What do you want?"