Fiction- Short Story
Looking the Devil in the Face
It was supposed to be a game.
That was how she justified it when she first saw him. Elaine didn’t need excitement — she had her life, stable and predictable, mapped out like the gardens she tended. But when she met Aiden at the art exhibit, something deep within stirred.
He was the opposite of the calm, structured world she knew: unruly, intense, with eyes that burned when they caught hers. His passion ignited something forgotten in her, something primal.
It started innocently enough.
Drinks after the gallery.
A lingering look.
The brush of fingers against hers as he passed her the wineglass.
But there was a hunger for it, a desire that Elaine hadn’t known she still possessed.
Aiden’s touch wasn’t gentle; it was a demand, a reminder of all she could have but had pushed away. His need matched hers, and she let it consume her.
She fell fast, like a flame catching dry wood, each encounter more urgent than the last. Every time she was with him, she felt as if she had been unlocked, not confined anymore by the careful lines she had drawn around…
