"Don't touch me!" I screamed, crossing my hands in front of me as a shield.
He chuckled darkly.
Not bothering to listen to anything I just said and ignoring my actions, he brought his hands to my face.
"And tell me, what are you gonna do?" he says a...
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••• :: ୨•୧ :: •••
I blinked in surprise as the realization dawned on me—I had moved closer to Mr. Mariano, drawn in without fully intending to, as though something unspoken between us had gently pulled me forward. Our faces were now just inches apart. The proximity sent a flicker of shock through me, quickly followed by a hush of awareness. The air between us felt alive—weighted not with pressure, but with possibility. It was quiet, but not empty. Each breath felt louder, each second longer.
My heart gave a small, startled jolt in my chest. I could feel it thrum in my throat, the rhythm uneven, as if struggling to match the intensity of the moment. A current coursed beneath my skin, and I couldn't tell if it was adrenaline, anticipation, or perhaps both. I didn't know how I had ended up here, on the precipice of something so delicate and undefined. One moment we had been conversing, our words steady and measured, and the next, I found myself caught in the invisible gravity between us. He hadn't moved away.
Mr. Mariano remained composed, but his gaze never wavered. There was a softness in his expression now, almost imperceptible, like the warmth of light filtering through a curtain. His eyes searched mine—quiet, steady, unhurried. There was no demand in his stare, only a kind of thoughtful patience, as though he were trying to decide whether to cross that same unspoken line or to wait and see if I would.
A shadow of contemplation passed over his face, subtle but unmistakable. I could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, like the low hum of something just out of reach. It was strange how clearly I perceived the shift in tension—not outwardly, but in the way his expression flickered. The tiniest crease formed between his brows. The brief pause before his next breath. I wondered what he saw in me, and if he knew what I was feeling before I did.
Warmth bloomed in my chest—tentative, thrilling. It wasn't merely about attraction anymore; it was about the way we had found ourselves here, together, balanced on the edge of something neither of us had named. Yet, even in this closeness, I felt the presence of that last fragile boundary between us. It hovered in the air—thin, translucent, uncertain. Neither of us crossed it, not yet. But it was there, waiting.
I turned my gaze slightly, trying to douse the warmth rising in my cheeks. The nearness of him was suddenly overwhelming—not in a way that begged for retreat, but in how startlingly real it had become. My senses were acutely aware of the small, breath-length space between us, of the quiet thrum in the air that still hadn't faded.
"I didn't mean to get so close," I murmured, the words slipping out before I could shape them properly. I attempted a smile, something light to ease the moment, but it emerged hesitant and uncertain—an instinctive shield against the vulnerability that had crept in. My voice betrayed me as well, quivering slightly at the edges. "I might have gotten caught up in the moment."
