Chapter 13
600 Words
Chapter 13: Tension Builds
Feliz was restless.
Every fabric swatch felt wrong, every sketch too shallow. Her thoughts spun without mercy, dragging her into moments she was trying to forget. That kiss still haunted her like perfume clinging to the air long after someone’s gone.
But today, it wasn’t the memory of the kiss that had her on edge.
It was her.
The intern—Sazha, maybe?—with the flirty laugh and glossy curls, perched far too comfortably on the edge of Sly’s desk. Giggling. Tucking her hair behind her ear like she practiced it in a mirror.
And Sly?
He leaned back in his chair, legs stretched, expression casual but amused. He was smiling. Not like he smiled at everyone—but damn near close.
Feliz’s pencil snapped in half.
Aaron, two desks down, raised an eyebrow.
Aaron [teasingly]
“That poor pencil didn’t deserve that.”
She forced a breath and tossed the pieces aside.
Feliz
“Do you need something?”
Aaron just smirked, swiveling slightly in his chair. Lia, beside him, glanced over and nudged Aaron with a knowing look.
Lia [stage-whispers]
“I think someone’s in denial.”
Aaron [chuckling]
“Mmhmm. Someone’s acting jealous.”
Feliz looked up sharply.
Feliz [snapping]
“I’m not jealous. Don’t be stupid.”
Lia raised her hands innocently.
Lia [grinning]
“We didn’t say who you’re jealous of.”
Feliz opened her mouth—and regretted it immediately.
Feliz
“Well, don’t.”
Silence followed.
Aaron blinked.
Aaron
“…Wow.”
Lia mouthed yikes and glanced over at Sly’s side of the room.
He wasn’t laughing anymore. He was looking at Feliz.
No—watching her.
His eyes narrowed, jaw tight. He said something brief to Sazha and stood, heading toward the backroom. Not a glance spared.
Feliz swallowed hard and went back to her sketches, cheeks burning.
Later that afternoon, Lucas appeared at her elbow. He held out a mug without a word—her favorite ginger lemon tea. She blinked at him.
Lucas [quietly]
“You looked like you needed it.”
She stared.
Feliz
“Why?”
Lucas shrugged, boyish and sincere.
Lucas
“I like you better when you don’t look like you’ll murder someone with a clipboard.”
That almost earned a laugh. Almost.
But she nodded, accepting the tea.
Feliz
“Thanks.”
Still, it didn’t stop her eyes from trailing toward Sly.
He was working with his head down now, jaw flexing. The usual smirk gone. Tension wrapped around him like a second skin.
She told herself she didn’t care.
---
That night, most of the team trickled out early. The hum of the studio dimmed into stillness.
Feliz stayed behind, restlessly adjusting details on a gown mockup that didn’t need adjusting.
She turned to grab her bag—
And found Sly leaning against the door frame.
Still. Waiting.
Her heart flipped.
Feliz [stiffly]
“If you’re looking for Sazha, she already left.”
Sly tilted his head, unreadable.
Sly [quiet]
“You really want to talk about Sazha?”
She crossed her arms.
Feliz
“I don’t want to talk at all.”
Sly pushed off the door, slow and deliberate, footsteps quiet on the concrete. He stopped just a breath away from her.
Too close.
Too charged.
His voice dropped.
Sly [low, unflinching]
“Just say it.”
Feliz’s breath hitched.
She didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
He was waiting. His eyes searched hers—looking for something raw, something true.
But she couldn’t give it.
Didn’t know how.
So she said nothing.
And the silence between them screamed.
- Writer
