Chapter 7: Crossing the Line
Monday evening arrived faster than I expected.
The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside.
I was sprawled on the couch, laptop on my knees, trying to focus on an assignment.
Alex appeared silently in the doorway, holding two mugs of tea.
"Can't sleep?" he asked softly, tilting his head.
I shook my head, not meeting his eyes.
"Too much to do," I muttered.
He stepped closer and set a mug on the table beside me.
Then, almost unconsciously, he brushed a strand of hair from my face.
My chest jolted.
Heat rose to my ears.
"I… thanks," I whispered, my voice betraying me.
Alex didn't answer.
He just lingered for a moment, his hand hovering near mine, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
I wanted to pull away.
I wanted to act normal.
But every instinct screamed to stay.
And then, his fingers grazed mine.
A soft, electric touch that sent shivers down my spine.
I froze.
He froze.
And yet, neither of us moved away.
"I… shouldn't…" I started, but my words faltered.
Alex smiled faintly, leaning just slightly closer.
"Then don't," he murmured.
The room felt smaller, warmer, charged with an intimacy neither of us had admitted aloud.
I finally stood up, trying to regain my composure.
"I… I'll get some water," I said, though my voice trembled slightly.
He didn't comment, only watched me with eyes that were softer than I had ever seen.
And in that look, I knew we had crossed a line.
A line neither of us was ready to name.
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