Forbidden Desire

I wanted something rough, primitive and wild, just like the desire that consumed my body. I used different types of brushes, shades of wine, red, orange, warm colors that showed all the fire that consumed me. After finishing the background, I used my hands and a little white paint to form a whirlpool on one side of the canvas, while on the opposite side I used a bright orange to draw a pool of lava flowing from a volcano in an abstract way that only I could understand. I used different leaves and textures to simulate movement, thus giving the impression that the hurricane was going against the volcano. That’s how I felt when my body approached Jason. I threw the paintings against the canvas violently, expressing all my frustration. I was immersed in a world of my own. When I was finally satisfied, I looked around and saw that everyone, including the teacher, was staring at me dumbfounded. I took off my headphones and looked around for answers when I was surprised by applause that began with the teacher and then spread throughout the room.Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

“This painting is magnificent!” exclaimed the teacher, her voice filled with genuine awe as she gazed upon the artwork. “So expressive, the warm colors, the movement, the anger. The anger in particular makes it something unique that I’ve never seen before.” Her words were punctuated by a genuine admiration for the piece.

Approaching me with a warm smile, she continued, “Congratulations, Miss Oliveira, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that you are one of the ten finalists who will be able to exhibit your painting.” Her hug enveloped me, a gesture of genuine pride and excitement.

Eunji joined in the celebration, his face beaming with joy as he approached. “Congratulations. Your painting looks amazing!” His words echoed with sincerity, his own excitement evident as he embraced me, spinning me around in jubilation.

Covered in blue paint, Eunji’s enthusiasm was contagious as he admired my artwork and shared his own success. “We left the college celebrating,” I reminisced, the thrill of the moment still palpable.

Arriving home, anticipation coursed through me as I contemplated sharing the news with my aunt and, most importantly, with Jason. Despite the late hour and the darkness that enveloped the house, my excitement remained undiminished.

My heart pounding with anticipation, I made my way to Jason’s room, feeling a mixture of nervousness and eagerness. Knocking yielded no response, prompting me to venture further in search of him. Each empty room intensified my anxiety until, in the living room, I encountered a solitary figure, cradling a martini glass.

“He’s not there. There’s no point in looking for him,” her voice echoed through the room, tinged with sadness.

As I gazed at her tear-streaked face, a pang of concern gripped me. “He traveled to Thailand with his secretary. He’ll be there for the rest of the week,” she revealed, her words landing like a heavy blow.

Disbelief surged within me, mingled with a sense of betrayal. “Didn’t he tell you?” she inquired softly, her words a painful reminder of my shattered trust.

Refusing to accept her words, I protested vehemently, my voice trembling with emotion. “You’re lying! You’re a liar!” I accused, my frustration bubbling to the surface.

Her indifference stung, but I refused to let her see my pain. “I don’t want to see anything. I don’t believe you!” I retorted, my resolve unyielding.

” Honestly, miss? I don’t give a damn! You can believe whatever you want, I’ve got much bigger problems than you to deal with right now. ” With a dismissive shrug, she offered no further explanation, leaving me to grapple with the harsh reality of Jason’s betrayal. As I stood there, grappling with the truth, a sense of emptiness engulfed me, overshadowing the joy of my earlier success.

I ran out of there as fast as I could, I went to the door of the mansion wanting to get out of there, but where would I go at that hour and without knowing anyone? I ran up the main staircase, sitting on the top step, while trying my best not to do what Jinhee said. I try not to look at Instagram, but I just can’t. Without much difficulty, I found the Instagram of a blonde, who was very beautiful despite being obviously vulgar. She had a perfect body within all the standards that I would ever fit into. Her body was similar to Jinhee’s, which makes me realize that I never even had a chance. That’s the kind of woman he likes, and I couldn’t be further from those standards. I see that she posted a story five hours ago, and I saw that it was a boomerang in which she showed the window of the plane and next to it, I could recognize Jason’s tattooed hands. She put the phrase “Hot nights in Thailand” with the fire emoji next to it. He really was traveling with this woman, he was sitting next to her on the plane, and since they had already had sex, I can imagine what they would do on this trip.

Suddenly I feel such emptiness. I look around feeling the chill of the night, making my skin crawl and having only the full moon for company. I close my eyes and can only remember all our moments, all the smiles, kisses and tears we shared. Everything had been so intense, but apparently only I had felt it. I really was just a toy. I was nothing to him, while he was my everything, my biggest dream, my desire, my inspiration. Ever since I arrived here, he had become my obsession and for several moments I believed that he could feel at least one percent of what I felt for him. If he felt at least one percent, I was sure that my love could make up for the other ninety-nine that were missing. But now I see that I was wishing for something impossible. The tears came so often that they wet my blouse. When crying alone wasn’t enough to ease my pain, I screamed. I screamed at the thought of how stupid and naive I was being.

The pain didn’t seem to subside, and I didn’t know why it was hurting so much, since I knew from the start that he wasn’t for me. But then why did he always defend me? Why does he always come to me? Why did he kiss me and touch my body, making me believe that at some point, if only for one night, I would have him? I sat there crying all the tears I didn’t even know I had, I could hardly breathe, and it felt like there was a stone on my chest. Suddenly, the sound of an approaching car caught my attention and I went halfway down the stairs trying to see what it could be. My legs were shaking when I heard the gate opening and saw Jason holding a suitcase, looking exhausted. He was about to go upstairs when he saw me there and his face lit up. He stopped and gave me a smile that made my heart, which a few seconds ago was in pieces, rise from the ashes and start beating harder. Tears rolled down my eyes and my voice almost didn’t come out.

“I thought you were in Thailand,” I whispered, my voice trembling as tears streamed down my face.

His eyes, glistening with emotion, met mine, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I should have been. But I simply couldn’t stay away from you for one night!” His words, filled with sincerity, washed over me, melting away my anguish.

Unable to contain my joy, I descended the stairs in a rush, the weight of despair lifting from my shoulders. His smile widened as I approached, anticipation sparking between us.

With a burst of exhilaration, I launched myself into his arms, our bodies colliding with a joyful force. His laughter mingled with mine as we tumbled to the floor, a whirlwind of excitement and affection.

His hands cradled my face, drawing me closer as our lips met in a fervent kiss. In that moment, everything faded away-the pain, the doubt, the uncertainty. We were two souls entwined in a dance of passion, lost in the embrace of each other’s love.