By the time Olivia yelled "Action!", Y/N seems to have forgotten that there were dozens of cameras and hundreds of eyes on them.
She stared into Harry's eyes, noticing how his gentle green orbs now had that wild sparkle when playing Jack, but she only focused on the color, and how his hands caressed her hips covered by a dress of the time.
She watched his full lips move, saying his script, but she was only thinking about how lucky she was to work with someone as good, gentleman, and unique as Harry.
From day one, they were tied at the hip, trying to get along as best as possible for all their scenes, and transferring their affection to real life, forging a friendship.
And maybe she was a little bit in love with him.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you today." The deep voice and the sculpted face in front of her face brought her (kinda) to reality. "I was at work just thinking of coming home to you, darling."
His eyes penetrated hers, and she even felt like they pierced her soul, as if he really felt the words that came out of his mouth in an american accent.
He did.
"And now I'm finally here." He continued, not realizing how distracted his co-star was.
And then his lips crashed against hers.
It wasn't the first scene where they kissed, but it felt more intimate, perhaps because Y/N's mind was not where it should have been, or perhaps because of the hand sliding down her thigh.
Harry pretended to stimulate her with his fingers as he brushed his mouth against hers, also forgetting the cameras on them.
But then, something almost inaudible that if it hadn't been for the closeness they shared he wouldn't have heard escaped from the girl's mouth.
"Harry."
The named stopped abruptly in his actions, swallowing hard as he felt a fever run through him from head to toe, ashamed of how his body reacted to hearing the moan of who he considered his friend.
No one seemed to notice what was happening between the two of them, so he regained his composure and leaned down with a firm hand on her thigh to whisper in her ear.
"Wrong script, love."
And the hands that were on his shirt now wrinkle the fabric, showing that Y/N woke up from that real-life dream she was living.
She pulled away from him, staring into his eyes in embarrassment, and called out Olivia's name.
"Is everyone okay?" The director of the movie asked, approaching them.
Harry waited attentive to what Y/N had to say, he didn't want the scene to end so soon, he wanted to keep kissing her and holding her in his arms while she whispered his name, like they weren't acting.
"I need to breathe a little, I'm not well a-and I got the script wrong." Finally she said, his chest contracted, he needed an explanation.
"Y/N, please wait." He called her but she had run away from the scene to her dressing room. "Y/N!"
He follows her panting, opening the wooden door and meeting his agitated friend in front of the mirror, who looked at him through it.
"Harry, I need to be alone for a second, please." Y/N spoke, her face completely red.
"Are you okay?" He asked, ignoring what had come out of her mouth. "Why did you say my name?"
He moved closer until there was only a small space separating them, she was leaning against the mirror, and he, behind her.
