Jia_Syzelle

In the 1920s, Mary, the quiet daughter of the town mayor, lives by strict rules—until she meets Isabelle Hart, a bold and flirty jazz singer. Drawn to Isabelle’s fire, Mary begins to question everything she’s ever known. But in a time where their love is forbidden, their greatest enemy becomes everyone—family, friends, and society itself.

Will they accept themselves and how will they fight the society?

Will there always remain forbidden?

Forbidden Dream 1920

The air in the room felt heavier now—thick with longing, a tension that neither of them tried to escape anymore.

Mary stood still in Isabelle's arms, heart racing under her soft cotton nightgown. Isabelle's touch was gentle, but her gaze… her gaze was anything but.

"Say it again," Isabelle murmured, her fingers brushing Mary's cheek like she was tracing something sacred.

Mary swallowed hard, eyes flicking toward the closed door. "You're mine," she whispered.

Then Mary added, her voice a little breathier, "But… Thomas is just in the next room."

Isabelle raised a brow, her hands resting lightly on Mary's hips.

"So?" she asked, playfully defiant, but there was a flicker of frustration in her tone.

Mary gave a nervous giggle. "We shouldn't be… loud."

Isabelle leaned in, her lips brushing the corner of Mary's mouth. "Fine," she said in a low murmur. "If you say so."

There was a slight, mock pout in her voice. But she obeyed.

Instead of speaking again, Isabelle brought her lips slowly to Mary's—slowly, like time had finally given them permission to savor it all.

Mary melted into it, her hands trailing up Isabelle's back, her skin tingling under every quiet touch. She could feel Isabelle smiling against her lips, and it made her heart beat faster.

The kisses deepened, slow and careful, like music in the dark.

Isabelle whispered between soft breaths, "I've wanted this for so long. You. Just like this."

Mary's face was flushed, her fingers trembling slightly as they moved through Isabelle's hair. "I was scared," she admitted. "I still am."

Isabelle kissed her again. This time a little firmer. Slower still.

"Then let me remind you," she breathed, lips grazing Mary's jaw, "how it feels to be wanted without shame."

They didn't need to speak anymore.

Every glance, every brush of skin, every sigh was filled with that deep, aching sweetness that only forbidden love could carry.

And for once… neither of them cared about the world outside that room.

EVERY DAMN SECOND