KAIA
The office was quieter than usual.
Too quiet.
Which meant—
no distractions.
No interruptions.
No excuses.
I didn’t plan on staying this late.
But the deadline didn’t matter.
And apparently—
Neither did he.
He was already there when I walked in.
Lights dimmed. Laptop open. Sleeves slightly rolled, the fabric of his shirt folding neatly along his forearms like it belonged there. Effortless. Controlled.
Like he had been here for a while.
Like he always was.
“You don’t leave?” I asked.
His eyes didn’t lift immediately.
“Not when there’s work.”
I placed my bag down, slower than necessary.
“Or when there’s control to maintain?”
That got his attention.
His gaze lifted.
Slow.
Measured.
Dark eyes settling on mine like they were trying to read something I hadn’t said yet.
“You’re still here,” he said.
I walked past him.
“Don’t read into it.”
“Wasn’t planning to.”
Liar.
We worked.
At first—
like we always did.
Minimal conversation.
Controlled exchanges.
Just enough words to keep things moving.
But something was different tonight.
The silence didn’t feel empty.
It felt—
aware.
NEIL
She was quieter.
Not distant.
Just… focused.
Which should have made this easier.
It didn’t.
Every movement registered.
The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—absent-minded, but deliberate enough to pull attention. The way her fingers paused over the keyboard before finishing a thought.
Every time she leaned closer to the screen—
just slightly too close—
it felt intentional.
Even when it wasn’t.
“You’re off,” I said.
She didn’t look up.
“About what?”
“That line.”
“It reads fine.”
“Not the words.”
That made her pause.
“The way it lands,” I added.
Now she looked at me.
There it was again.
That look.
Sharp. Questioning. But with something else under it—something she wasn’t offering, just… letting exist.
“Since when do you care how something sounds?” she asked.
A beat.
“Since it started mattering.”
That wasn’t meant to come out like that.
Her eyes held mine.
Longer than necessary.
There was a shift in them.
Not soft.
Not welcoming.
Just—
aware.
“Interesting,” she said quietly.
KAIA
That was new.
I turned back to the screen.
But I could feel it.
His attention didn’t drop.
Didn’t shift.
Didn’t leave.
“Then fix it,” I said.
“I am.”
He stood up.
Walked around the table.
I felt him before I saw him.
Stopped right behind me.
Too close.
“You’re crowding me,” I said.
“Move, then.”
I didn’t.
His hand reached past me.
Close enough for me to feel the warmth of it without contact. The faint trace of his cologne—something clean, understated, but strong enough to linger.
He adjusted the line on the screen.
Not rushing.
Not hesitating.
“Better,” he said.
My breath caught.
Just for a second.
Annoying.
“Don’t get used to this,” I said.
“I’m not.”
Another pause.
“You noticed,” he added.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I wasn’t.”
That almost made me turn.
Almost.
NEIL
She didn’t move.
That was the problem.
She could have stepped away.
Created distance.
Reset the moment.
She didn’t.
And neither did I.
“Why are you still here?” I asked.
She let out a quiet breath.
“Because walking away hasn’t worked so far.”
That landed.
Not sharp.
Not loud.
Just—
there.
“From the project,” she added.
Of course.
KAIA
I stood up too quickly.
Too aware.
Too close.
Too—
something.
“We should finish this,” I said.
“We are.”
His voice didn’t change.
Which made it worse.
“You’re distracted.”
“I’m focused.”
“On what?”
That—
was a mistake.
His gaze dropped.
Not obviously.
Just enough to notice.
Then back to my eyes.
“Same thing you are.”
My heartbeat skipped.
Just once.
And then again.
Annoying.
NEIL
That line shouldn’t have worked.
It did.
She didn’t respond.
Didn’t argue.
Didn’t deflect.
That was new.
We went back to work.
But it wasn’t the same.
Every silence—
longer.
Every glance—
noticed.
Every shift—
felt.
KAIA
By the time we were done—
It was late.
Too late.
I picked up my bag.
He closed his laptop.
“You staying?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“No.”
A pause.
“Good,” I said.
He looked at me then.
Properly.
“Why?”
I held his gaze.
“Because I’d rather not find out what happens if we stay longer.”
There it was.
Unplanned.
His expression didn’t change.
But his eyes did.
“Probably nothing,” he said.
“Exactly.”
We both knew—
that wasn’t true.
Neither of us said it.
NEIL
She left first.
Of course she did.
The room felt different after.
Quieter.
Or maybe—
just empty.
INTERNAL — NOT FOR DISTRIBUTION
TO: KAIA LAINE
FROM: NEIL VOSS
Re: Late Session
Adjustments were… precise.
The pacing worked.
Continue in that direction.
— N.V.
KAIA
I read it once.
Then again.
Of course.
INTERNAL — NOT FOR DISTRIBUTION
TO: NEIL VOSS
FROM: KAIA LAINE
Re: Late Session
Timing felt different tonight.
Don’t assume that’s a pattern.
— K.L.
I closed the document.
It was just work.
It had to be.
Even if—
it didn’t feel like it anymore.
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