It starts with a lie. A small one. Spoken too quickly to take back. A name given weight. A role assigned before either of them is ready. They stand side by side, pretending. Smiling when watched. Careful when alone. The rules are clear. This is temporary. This is convenient. This is not real. But proximity blurs intention. And touch lingers longer than planned. What begins as performance turns quiet. Then dangerous. Then honest in ways neither expected. This is not a love story built on grand gestures- but on shared glances. On late nights. On the space between almost and always. On holding back. On choosing not to cross the line. Until one of them does. And everything changes.