Under the Sky

Glances

Liliam

The office was a constant hum of activity, phones ringing and keyboards clacking, but I found myself in a uncomfortable routine with Zeff. I tried to keep things professional, to focus on my tasks and not on the confusing swirl of emotions I felt whenever I was around him.

But it wasn't always easy.

Every now and then, I'd catch myself stealing glances at him. Today was no different. I found my eyes drifting over to his desk, watching the way his hands moved over the keyboard, his fingers quick and sure. His shirt stretched slightly over his broad shoulders, the fabric clinging to his well-defined physique. I bit my lip, my mind wandering back to the feel of those muscles under my fingertips, the heat of his body pressed against mine.

What was I doing?

I mentally slapped myself, tearing my gaze away and forcing myself to focus on the report in front of me. I needed to keep my feelings under control, to stop letting my thoughts drift to places they shouldn't. But it was hard, especially with the way Zeff seemed to effortlessly draw me in, his presence magnetic and impossible to ignore.

He caught my eye then, looking up from his work, and our gazes locked for a moment. I felt my heart skip a beat, a flutter of something deep in my stomach. He gave me a small, knowing smile, and I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. What was I doing? Why couldn't I just keep my mind on my work and not on him?

I tried to bury myself in the report, but my thoughts kept drifting back to him. The way he'd looked at me in the forest, his eyes filled with something deep and intense. The feel of his lips against mine in that heated moment in the conference room. The way his touch had sent sparks through my body, making me feel alive in a way I hadn't felt in a long time.

Did he want something more from me? Was he looking for something beyond friendship, something beyond that seemed to pull us together? And what was I feeling? Was it just physical, or was there something more to it?

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I tried to push the thoughts away. I couldn't afford to let myself get distracted, not now. I needed to keep things professional, to focus on my work and not on the confusing mess of emotions that seemed to be swirling around me whenever Zeff was near.

But it was hard to ignore the way my heart seemed to beat a little faster whenever he was close, the way my body seemed to respond to his presence, the way my mind kept replaying the moments we'd shared, each one more heated and intense than the last.

I glanced over at him again, watching as he focused on his work, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up, catching my gaze once more, and this time I didn't look away. For a moment, I let myself wonder what it would be like to give in to these feelings, to explore whatever was between us, to see where it could lead.

But then I remembered Owen, the commitment I'd made to him, the guilt that twisted in my stomach whenever I thought about betraying his trust. I couldn't do that to him, couldn't let myself get swept up in something that could destroy everything I'd built.

I shook my head, turning back to my work with a renewed determination. I needed to keep things under control, to keep my feelings in check. Whatever was happening between me and Zeff, it couldn't go any further. I couldn't let it.

But as I tried to focus on the report, my thoughts kept drifting back to him, my heart kept skipping a beat whenever he looked my way, and I couldn't help but wonder—was I fighting a losing battle?

Zeff

From my desk, I watched Liliam as she worked across the room. She was focused, her brow furrowed in concentration as she typed away at her computer. The office buzzed with the usual noises of phones ringing and people talking, but my senses were entirely tuned into her. I couldn't help it. The bond made it so I was always aware of her—her movements, her scent, the way her emotions seemed to ripple through the air.

I tried to focus on my own work, but I kept catching glimpses of her out of the corner of my eye. Every so often, she'd glance up, her eyes flickering toward me. I could smell the subtle shift in her hormones whenever our gazes met—a mix of curiosity, confusion, and something else. Something that made my wolf stir inside me.

God, her scent was intoxicating. Whenever she looked at me, I could smell the slight uptick of adrenaline, the faint, sweet hint of desire. It was like a pull, drawing me closer, making it impossible to concentrate on anything else. I watched her, trying to be discreet, trying to keep my eyes on my work, but it was a losing battle.

She looked up again, our eyes locking for a moment. I saw her cheeks flush, her breath catch slightly. She quickly looked away, but not before I caught the scent of her heightened emotions. She was trying so hard to keep things formal, to maintain that professional distance, but I could feel her struggling, just as I was.

I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the way my body responded to her scent. It was maddening, the way she affected me, the way my wolf seemed to want to leap out of me every time she was near. I could feel the animal inside me pacing, restless, yearning to be closer to her.

She kept glancing at me, each time her gaze lingered just a little too long, her eyes searching mine. I knew she was confused. I could smell the conflict in her, the way her body reacted when I was near, the way her heart rate would spike whenever we made eye contact.

Did she know how much I could sense about her? How much her scent told me about her emotions, her desires, her confusion? Probably not. And that was probably for the best.

I watched her shift in her chair, her fingers tapping nervously on the desk. I could smell her anxiety, the worry that clouded her thoughts. She was trying so hard to keep it together, to focus on her work, but I could tell she was distracted.

She glanced up again, and this time, she didn't look away. Our eyes met, and for a moment, everything else in the room seemed to fade away. I could see the questions in her eyes, the uncertainty, the pull of the bond that she was clearly feeling but didn't fully understand.

I gave her a small smile, hoping to reassure her, to let her know I was here for her, whatever she needed. But she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing again, and I caught the faintest whiff of embarrassment mixed with that same sweet scent of desire.

She was struggling, and it was killing me. I wanted to go to her, to wrap my arms around her and tell her everything would be okay. But I knew I couldn't. Not yet. Not while she was still trying to figure things out for herself.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, to keep my own emotions in check. But it was hard, so damn hard when every fiber of my being was screaming at me to go to her, to close the distance between us and make her mine.

I forced myself to look away, to focus on my work, but every time I heard her shift in her chair, every time she sighed or moved or did anything, I felt that pull, that connection that was growing stronger every day.

My wolf was restless, agitated. He could sense her too, could smell the change in her hormones, the way her body was reacting to mine. It took everything in me to keep him at bay, to keep from letting him take over and do something we might both regret.

She glanced up again, her eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, I let myself get lost in them. Her gaze was soft, questioning, and I could feel my resolve slipping. I wanted to go to her, to close that gap, to let her know she wasn't alone in this. But I knew I couldn't. Not yet.

I could smell her confusion, her guilt. It was hard to stay away when every part of me was screaming to go to her, to comfort her, to be there for her.

She finally looked away, burying herself back in her work, and I did the same, though my thoughts were far from focused on the task in front of me. I needed to be patient. I needed to let her come to terms with her feelings, to figure things out in her own time. But it was getting harder and harder every day.