Eliana is an aspiring photographer, having worked in low-level marketing and media jobs she finally found her place in f1.
That is until she meets someone and ends up on the wrong foot.
Their tension must snap at some point.
The question is when.
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I've been staring at that message for about an hour. I know I said we should talk, but does it have to be alone? Alone means no one watching, and that means I have no excuse not to try and touch him. Kiss him. Do the things I've dreamt of since Cyprus. Especially in the quiet hours of the night when I'd patiently wait for a message or a call from him. But to no avail.
I gnaw at my lip and look at the time. Interviews ended about 5 minutes ago, so he should be back by now, and there really is no excuse for me not to go. I asked for this. I want to go, I'm just scared. I don't commit, not fully. But something in Oscar makes me want to try, and I've never felt like this for anyone. We're not even anything and he's made me feel wanted, unlike any of my exes and flings before.
— I knock on the door, standing awkwardly outside just in case anyone walks by. My heart rate increases the more I wait. What if I've left it too long? Maybe he went home because he thought I wasn't coming? I go to knock again when I hear someone walking towards me and, panicker as I am, I push the handle down and practically run inside.
"Hello to you too." A male voice breaks through my loud breathing, making me snap my head up. Big mistake. His naked body meets me, glistening with water droplets, broken only by the towel wrapped lowly around his waist, highlighting his v line.
"Oh my god, sorry." I say, turning my head to look at the wall, "I knocked but didn't hear anything."
I hear a small chuckle come from him and I reluctantly look back at him, swallowing when he meets my eyes with a small smile. God, this is not how I thought this was gonna go.
"It's fine, just give me a second." He says, running a hand through his wet hair.
"Of course." I breathlessly reply, nodding slightly as he turns back to the bathroom with a small smirk on his lips.
My eyes follow him in the mirror unbeknownst to him as he drops the towel, and I pull my eyes away, my cheeks heating. God, why can't I just let the man do what he needs to do. I internally slap myself. Am I ovulating? Is this what's happening? We don't speak in a week or so and the minute we do I'm drooling. Pathetic.
Are you being a pervert again?" I hear a husky voice from behind me, making my spin around as I come face to face with Oscar, now wearing trousers but no shirt.
"I am not a pervert! You are."
"I wasn't looking at someone getting changed." He smirks at me. God I want to slap him.
"I wasn't-"
He raises his eyebrows at me.
"I didn't mean to." I say quietly, looking down. At his chest, it turns out. Wow. What a lovely sight. STOP.
"Yeah yeah." He laughs, and the sound releases a cage of 1000 butterflies in my stomach.
"I'm not a pervert, Oscar." I lift my head up and smack him on the chest. "You're literally older than me." I smirk, moving to sit on the sofa. "Pervert." I whisper, a smile on my lips.
