Noah Hawthorne

Off-Limits - Inspired by Far Away by Nickelback (Requested by: Krista86 I was twelve when I first heard cries coming through the wooden slats of the fence that separated our yards. Falling off your bicycle. I rushed to your side in an instant. Offering a hand, not to fix you, but to say I’d wait with you until the storm passed. Your brother became the second voice in my head. He was protective, stubborn, the kind of kid that could turn a sunny afternoon into a muttered negotiation at the kitchen table. When we were teens he laid down a boundary: You were off-limits. It wasn’t a threat; it was a line in the sand he drew with a careful hand. But as time went on, we found small ways to bend the rules without breaking them. Shared secrets after dusk, jokes that needed a whisper, a look that understood the other’s heartbeat. We didn’t intend rebellion. We just found a rhythm that flirted with the edge of something more. Then came the night I heard your cries next to the shoreline. The water licking at our toes. You stood with your back to the sea. We talked for hours, in low tones as if the wind might steal our words if we spoke too loudly. We danced, we laughed, and shared a kiss under the stars. A promise, a hope, a risk, and you believed the night would hold you safe. In that moment, I learned something cruel and beautiful: love can feel inevitable even when you know it might be dangerous. I wanted to stay, to stay forever, but couldn’t pretend the world wouldn’t pull us apart. College called. I told myself it was the right thing to do, and three years would pass. I promised I would call. To come back, but I never did. Until now… Your brother asked me to pick you up, and now here we are, sitting like strangers in my car, silent. You try to break the awkwardness. “Sooo…” I look at you with a raised brow. “So what?...” “Never mind, I’m sorry.” Noah Hawthorne, 22