After that day, things changed.
Not in a way anyone else would notice.
But I felt it.
In the way he didn't hesitate anymore.
In the way I didn't pretend not to notice.
We didn't talk much after that first conversation. Not really. But somehow, it felt like we were always communicating.
Just not with words.
A glance that lasted a second too long.
A shift in posture when one of us walked in.
The quiet awareness of each other, no matter how crowded the room was.
It was subtle.
But it was constant.
And that was the problem.
Because now, it wasn't accidental.
It was intentional.
I could feel it in the way his eyes found me faster than before. Like he didn't even need to look properly anymore—like he just knew where I'd be.
And the worst part?
I was starting to feel the same way.
That scared me.
More than I wanted to admit.
Today, I tried to act normal again. Sat down. Opened my phone. Looked busy.
But I could feel him.
I didn't even need to look to confirm it.
It was there.
That same quiet pressure.
That same pull.
Stronger now.
I exhaled slowly, trying to ignore it.
It didn't work.
Because a few seconds later, I felt something shift.
Movement.
Closer.
My fingers paused mid-scroll.
Then I heard it—
A chair moving.
Not far.
Too close.
I looked up before I could stop myself.
And there he was.
Closer than he had ever been.
Not directly next to me.
But close enough that it changed everything.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked.
His voice was calm, but there was something behind it.
Something that made it clear—
He already knew the answer.
I shook my head.
"No."
He sat down.
And just like that—
The distance between us disappeared.
The air felt heavier. Warmer.
Every small movement suddenly felt amplified.
The way he leaned back.
The way his arm rested.
The way his presence filled the space beside me.
I swallowed, trying to focus on literally anything else.
But it was impossible.
Because now, the tension wasn't across the room.
It was right next to me.
And neither of us said a word about it.