It began with something simple—her hand on his shoulder, a gesture that could have been perfectly innocent. She leaned closer to point something out, her palm settling lightly against the fabric of his shirt. It should have lasted no more than a second or two. But it didn’t.
Her hand stayed there. Not pressing, not moving, just resting with a weight that felt more intimate than it should have. He noticed the warmth first, the subtle imprint of her fingers through the cloth. Then he noticed the way she continued speaking as though nothing unusual was happening, her tone steady, her expression neutral. She was pretending it was casual—but it wasn’t.
He felt the moment stretch, awareness sharpening with every second her hand remained. Was she testing him? Was she waiting for him to react? His body betrayed him before his mind could decide—his pulse quickened, his breath shifted, and he knew she could feel it in the way his shoulder tensed beneath her touch.
When she finally withdrew, it was slow, almost reluctant. Her fingers grazed lightly as they slid away, leaving a phantom trail of heat that lingered far longer than the contact itself. And when she looked at him, her eyes sparkled with the faintest glimmer of amusement, as though she had just pulled off a trick and was daring him to call her out.
The next time it happened, there was no doubt it was intentional. She reached out again, her hand settling into that same spot, her thumb tracing an almost imperceptible circle before stilling. Once more she carried on speaking, pretending nothing had changed, but her body betrayed her in subtle ways—the curve of her lips, the softness in her eyes, the way her body leaned just slightly closer to his.
It wasn’t just a touch anymore. It was a conversation of its own, one layered beneath the words they were actually speaking. Her hand told him: I want you to notice. I want you to feel this. And his silence, his stillness, told her something too: I do notice. I feel it more than I should.
By the time she withdrew again, it no longer felt casual at all. It felt deliberate, dangerous, and utterly addictive.