Chapter 10
731 Words
Chapter 10: Mixed Signals
The next day, Feliz arrived early.
Too early, if she were being honest.
But she needed the head start—on the gown she was finishing, and on the wayward thoughts that wouldn’t stop circling her brain like vultures.
The studio was already buzzing by late afternoon. Music low, sewing machines in sync, steamers hissing like background noise. She greeted everyone with her usual bright smile and calm voice.
Today, she was resetting.
No overthinking.
No… Sly-related spirals.
He walked in a little after four. Calm. Composed. His coat slung over one shoulder, damp hair brushed back with his fingers. He nodded at her casually and muttered a low—
Sly [neutral]
“Hey.”
Feliz [soft but steady]
“Hey.”
No tension. No awkwardness.
Just two colleagues. Two designers. Professionals.
They were assigned to the same piece that afternoon—a joint collab for the finale dress of the show. Feliz handled the structure and silhouette. Sly was in charge of texture and detail.
They stood side by side at the work table, surrounded by bolts of silk, trays of beads, spools of thread. Swatches and sketchbooks were scattered everywhere. The scent of starch and metal filled the air.
They worked in quiet rhythm.
Mostly.
Sly would occasionally ask for her opinion—on color, on proportion, on bead placement.
Sly [thoughtful]
“Too much if we bead the whole bodice?”
Feliz [smoothly]
“Hm. Maybe just the top half. Let it fade near the waist.”
Sly [nods]
“Smart. You’re good at balance.”
Feliz smiled politely, fingers gliding over the fabric. Their hands brushed—once, twice—reaching for the same pin or adjusting the same edge. Neither commented.
But each time, something electric passed between them. A jolt too quick to name.
She laughed once—genuinely—at a remark he made about the rhinestones looking like “sad disco tears.” Then immediately regretted it.
Because when she glanced up and saw him watching her—soft-eyed, slightly surprised—she snapped her gaze back to the fabric.
Feliz [defensive, too quick]
“Don’t get used to that.”
Sly [grinning, light]
“Used to what?”
Feliz
“Me laughing at your jokes.”
He didn’t reply. Just smiled faintly, then kept working.
The silence that followed wasn’t cold. But it wasn’t warm, either. Just careful.
Measured.
By six, most of the team started packing up. The golden light outside dimmed into the blue of early evening. Feliz and Sly remained, the half-finished gown between them.
Feliz adjusted the hem while Sly fastened a line of pearls at the neckline.
They were closer than she realized.
When she looked up, he was already looking at her.
Feliz [quiet]
“What?”
Sly [soft]
“Nothing.”
She paused, unsure whether to press or drop it. She chose the latter.
She moved to the side, giving him space, reaching for her sketchpad to make notes.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
It wasn’t like her to get rattled. Not by anyone.
And yet, there she was—fighting to keep her tone steady, her walls up, her eyes from betraying too much.
She could feel the warmth of his presence beside her. The familiar scent of his cologne—fresh, clean, a little sharp—lingering in the space between them.
But she kept her focus on the sketchpad. Pretended to be unbothered.
He didn’t push.
He didn’t tease or flirt like he used to. He was calm. Watchful. As if waiting for a signal she wasn’t ready to give.
Finally, she stepped back.
Feliz [firm, polite]
“I think that’s enough for today.”
Sly nodded, brushing his hands on his pants.
Sly
“Yeah.”
He began gathering his things. She did the same, slower.
There was a pause near the door. The kind that stretches longer than it should.
Feliz pretended to be preoccupied with zipping up her sketchpad.
Sly hesitated. Then said it—low, like it wasn’t meant to leave his mouth.
Sly [soft, unreadable]
“Just so you know... it wasn’t nothing to me.”
Feliz froze.
But before she could say anything, before she could even look up—
He was gone.
The door clicked softly behind him.
And she was left standing there, her heart hammering loud in the sudden quiet.
- Writer
