samira’s pulse hadn’t quite recovered from the brief touch of his fingers around her wrist. the moment was nothing — routine, practical — but it landed with the weight of something else entirely. the ghost of his thumb lingered there long after he’d let go, warmth blooming where it had no right to. she flexed her hand once, as if to shake it off, but the sensation only deepened, spread.
❝ i was careful, ❞ she said, voice softer than she meant it to be. she watched him tug his shirt free, & for a second she forgot to breathe. the air between them thickened again — sunlight glinting off sweat, the scent of salt & dust & him. he made even irritation look graceful, frowning at the engine like he could will it to cooperate.
❝ i suppose you’re right, ❞ she murmured instead, stepping closer to the open hood. ❝ though i’m not sure a taxi will find us out here. ❞ she leaned beside him, peering into the mess of metal as if trying to divine something from it, a habit more than anything — her hands itching for something to fix. ❝ you can’t tell me this is how you pictured spending your afternoon, either. ❞
she tried to make it sound light, but her throat was dry, pulse still too fast. the space between them felt like a question she wasn’t brave enough to answer. after a long moment, she reached into the car for her bag & pulled out a bottle of water, holding it out toward him. ❝ here, before you dehydrate, ❞ she said, managing a small smile. ❝ i’d hate to explain to the palace that my bodyguard keeled over in the line of duty. ❞ her tone was playful, but the words carried an undertow — concern, affection, & the quiet, treacherous warmth she never said aloud.
