Chapter Six: Closer Than Expected
The morning air was cool as I stepped into the training hall, already buzzing with activity. I ignored the usual crowd of students, signing in quickly and heading toward the corner table that had become my "territory." As expected, Lucas was already there, leaning against the edge of a desk, hands casually in his pockets, watching the room with that smug grin he always wore.
He spotted me immediately, and his grin widened. "There you are," he called out, loud enough for a few nearby students to glance our way. "On time. Not that I doubted you."
I rolled my eyes, trying to mask the small thrill his attention always sparked. "You mean punctual, Lucas. Don't confuse that with… whatever that look is."
He tilted his head, smirking, as he sauntered over. "That look? I have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe I'm just impressed."
I frowned, unsure whether to take it as a tease or a compliment. The thing about Lucas was that he had a way of blurring the line between mischief and sincerity, making it impossible to tell which was which.
We settled into our usual rhythm, he leaning lazily against my desk, I bent over my notes, organizing charts, graphs, and references. For the next few minutes, the room was filled with the quiet scratching of pens, the tapping of laptop keys, and the occasional muttered remark from other groups.
Then he leaned closer, eyes scanning the spreadsheet I had just finished. "You really color-code everything?" he asked, smirking like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever seen.
"Yes," I said firmly, meeting his gaze for the briefest moment. "It helps me see patterns. Unlike your… freeform approach."
He chuckled, tilting his head, letting our eyes lock for a few seconds longer than necessary. That spark—the teasing intensity of his gaze—made my chest tighten ever so slightly. I looked down quickly, trying to hide it.
Lucas laughed softly. "I like that. You're focused. Serious. You don't let things slip by unnoticed. You… challenge me."
I felt a faint warmth rise to my cheeks, though I forced myself to stay calm. "I'm just doing my job," I muttered, pen scratching across the paper.
"Maybe," he said, leaning closer again, "but I like it. It keeps me on my toes."
I paused, glancing up at him. Our eyes met for a brief moment—just long enough for me to catch the teasing glint in his eyes. He wasn't flirting… not exactly. But he was aware of the tension, the unspoken challenge between us. And it was deliberate.
Hours passed in this dance of concentration and subtle provocation. He would nudge me with a pen, lean closer to point at a line on my spreadsheet, and glance at me as if daring me to react. I would focus on my notes, taking care to remain composed, though each accidental brush of his hand or brief eye contact made my pulse quicken.
At one point, he leaned so close that our shoulders touched. I froze, heart hammering, and he smirked knowingly. "You're tense," he said softly, eyes locked with mine. "Relax. I'm just… observing."
"Observing?" I echoed, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Yes. You," he said simply, leaning back, though not moving far. "It's interesting how focused you are. How stubborn. How…" He trailed off, eyes flicking to mine again. "…challenging."
I shook my head slightly, a small, reluctant smile tugging at my lips. "I'm sure you think everyone is a challenge."
"Not everyone," he said smoothly, leaning closer once more. The spark of his gaze, the proximity, the teasing inflection in his voice—it was almost magnetic. "You're… different."
I averted my eyes, pretending to scribble something in my notes, though my mind was spinning. Different. Challenging. Interesting. Words that made my chest tighten more than they should. I wasn't in love—not yet—but there was something about the way he looked at me, tested me, and subtly provoked me that I couldn't ignore.
By midday, most of the group had drifted away to work on their individual sections, leaving Lucas, Ethan, and me alone. The room was quieter, our small bubble of work and tension almost palpable. Lucas leaned across my desk again, nudging my arm lightly with a pen. "See, Rose? Working together isn't boring."
I pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze again. "It's… different. Tiring, but… different."
He grinned, letting our eyes lock for a moment longer. "Good. I like different."
Then, as if deciding to escalate the subtle tension, he leaned even closer, his shoulder brushing mine lightly. "You know," he said in a low, teasing tone, "most people would either get flustered or roll their eyes. You… you focus. And that makes me curious. Curious is dangerous."
I blinked, trying to mask the quickening of my pulse. "Dangerous, huh?"
"Yes," he said, smiling faintly, his gaze locked on mine. "Dangerous and… entertaining. I like it."
We continued working like that for hours, exchanging glances, small nudges, and teasing comments. Ethan stayed quiet mostly, observing, occasionally offering practical advice or helping organize charts. Lucas, however, was relentless in his subtle provocation, challenging me with words, eye contact, and brief touches, all while maintaining his playful, confident facade.
By late afternoon, I realized something that unsettled me. The project was supposed to be about research and learning, but it had become something far more intense—an unspoken battle of wits, subtle sparks, and playful tension. Lucas had a way of turning ordinary tasks into a game, a dance where every glance, every comment, every brush of his hand carried weight.
As we packed up, he nudged my shoulder lightly. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Yes," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Good," he said, grinning. "Don't make me wait."
I walked back to my dorm, my thoughts spinning. Lucas was infuriating, teasing, confident, and somehow… magnetic. The subtle tension, the sparks of challenge and curiosity, the fleeting eye contact—it was exhausting and exhilarating all at once.
And deep down, I knew this was only the beginning.