there are too many things happening this summer that i'm thinking we are going to need an extra 6-12 months of june and possibly another 3-4 months of july. probably no extra august as the problem should hopefully sort itself out by then. we are also looking into extending the day night cycle to 55 hours and extending the human lifespan to 10000 years.
Day three of befriending my neighborhood murder of crows. Named one Paulie and the other Stavros. I sat for two hours to watch them eat cashews off my fence. 100/10 experience.
Paulie will linger and eat them on the fence while looking at me. Stavros is more wary and grabs it mid flight.
This may have been obvious to others, but Miguel O’Hara likely can’t have biological kids because of his genetic splicing and that’s probably (one of the many) reasons he went into Gabi’s universe because it was the closest he would get to that.
𝐂𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐖: Fluff, Fluff, FLUFFFFF, small misunderstanding, food.
𝐀/𝐍: Sorry this took so long, had a lot of irl stuff happening and been writing this in between job applications 😭
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a moment that almost crossed a line, you and Miguel find yourselves circling the truth over lunch.
~
The sun hung high enough to flood Miguel’s kitchen in a warm, golden light that spilled across the countertop and caught the edges of the cabinets. The apartment was quiet, saved for the low murmur of the television drifting from the living room.
Miguel moved around the kitchen with ease, unloading the dishwater and stacking plates into their proper places.
“You make coffee yet or are you pretending to be productive?” Gabriel called out from the couch. He was half-sprawled across it, eyes on the TV but attention clearly split.
“I already had some,” Miguel responded.
“Without me? Qué traición.”
“You got here at eleven.”
“Exactly. Prime coffee hour,” Gabriel grinned.
Miguel rolled his eyes, but reached for another mug anyways. Gabreil had made himself comfortable the second he walked in— shoes kicked off, remote claimed, couch conquered. That was what happened when someone came over often enough to stop knocking.
Miguel slid the coffee pot into the machine. It hissed to life, the steady drip filling the mug as the rich scent spread through the kitchen.
For a moment, it wasn’t his apartment anymore.
It was the cafe— the one you went to on your first date. The sunlight through the tall windows, the quiet hum of the conversation, the warmth of the cup between his hands. The atmosphere was scenic.
And then there was your smile.
It lingered longer than it should have.
Miguel blinked, forcing himself back to the present. His brother was here. He needed to focus.
Strange, how something as ordinary as coffee could feel different now. Like the scent had attached itself to something softer. He wasn’t used to someone taking up this much space in his head.
“So what's on the agenda, today? Are you working?” Gabriel asked.
Miguel turned toward the living room. “Yeah. Some backlog stuff. Nothing crazy.”
“You say that every time and then you come home looking like you fought the printer.”
“The printer started it.”
Gabriel hummed but didn’t push, watching him over the back of the couch. Miguel carried the filled mug into the living room and set it down on the coffee table in front of him.
Gabriel ran a hand through his hair and grabbed the mug with a boyish grin. Before taking a sip, his eyes lingered on Miguel as he moved to sit down.
“You're weirdly energetic today,” Gabriel commented casually.
“I slept fine.”
“Didn't say you didn't.”
Miguel tilted his head slightly at the remark, suddenly feeling self-conscious under Gabriel’s gaze. His brother wasn’t usually the type to call things out like that.
Now Miguel found himself wondering what it was Gabriel was seeing.
Was it that obvious?
Before he could ask, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the notification.
[Y/N]:
‘I really enjoyed your company yesterday. Could you help me with something on my laptop? I promise it’s a real issue this time and definitely not an excuse just to see you on Monday ;)’
Something in his posture softened when he saw your name. The tension on his shoulders eased, and the corner of his mouth lifted almost without noticing.
His thumb lingered on the screen a moment longer than it should have.
“That didn’t look like a work email,” Gabriel said.
Miguel glanced up. “It wasn’t…”
“You gonna tell me who made you look at your phone like that?”
Miguel hesitated just a fraction too long, his self-consciousness came crawling back. How obvious was he? He swallowed and shook his head gravelly.
“It’s nothing.”
But Gabriel wasn’t buying it.
“Come on, I know that look.”
Miguel locked his phone and set it face down on the coffee table, taking a seat in the armchair.
“She just needed help with something.”
There it was. The first acknowledgement. Gabriel’s eyebrows lifted immediately.
“Ohhh. ‘She’.”
Miguel regretted the slip instantly.
“It’s just someone from work.”
The words felt dismissive the moment they left his mouth. As if whatever this was between you could be reduced to something that simple.
But things were still new. Fragile.
And Gabriel didn’t need to know everything.
“You don’t check your phone twice for just someone from work,” Gabriel added.
Miguel tried to hide his smile, but failed.
Gabriel noticed immediately, shifting in his seat as he leaned forward, clearly entertained now.
“Go on…”
Miguel paused, debating on where to even begin.
The afterglow he felt when he left your place the previous day was still there, lingering at the edge of his thoughts. It made everything feel a little lighter, like the world had shifted half a degree in a better direction.
After sharing breakfast in your kitchen— in your space— you had insisted he stay a little longer. It hadn’t taken much convincing.
He helped clean up, the two of you ended up watching some meaningless show on the couch. Neither of you were really paying attention to it, but the quiet company felt easy.
Eventually he left, not wanting to overstay or disturb the calm you seemed to have settled into. Before he did, you both promised to meet again Monday at lunch like usual.
Miguel didn’t plan on mentioning the shared lunches.
Or the coffee date.
Gabriel would blow that completely out of proportion.
And he definitely wasn’t about to mention the part where the two of you had fallen asleep on your couch, tangled together like it was the most natural thing ever.
That was a conversation he had no intention of having with his brother.
Or anyone.
Not now.
Maybe not ever.
“There’s nothing more to say,” Miguel said finally.
Gabriel blinked. “So… someone from work. That's all you’re going to give me?”
“That's all there is.”
“So she’s not the reason you suddenly care about cleaning your apartment?”
Miguel exhaled sharply. “It’s not like that.”
“Okay,” Gabriel said, lifting his mug slightly. “What’s it like then?”
Miguel hesitated, picking his next words carefully.
He hadn’t even realised how meticulously he cleaned the apartment this morning. The whole time you were on his mind as he dried his dishes and wiped down the countertops.
At one point he’d been so distracted he cleaned the same plate three times.
Thankfully Gabriel didn’t notice.
But why was he doing that?
He hadn’t even invited you over, and yet he was rearranging things as if you were already on your way.
A smug look grew on Gabriel’s face. “Dios mío. You’re nervous,”
“I am not nervous.”
“You’re in your thirties and acting like you’re sixteen.”
Miguel shot him a look but didn’t say anything.
The truth was, he was nervous.
Not just because of the way you made him feel, but because he didn’t want to mess things up again. He’d already upset you once without realising and had only barely managed to make it right.
What if next time you weren’t as forgiving?
Gabriel’s grin didn’t fade. Seeing him so relaxed only made the contrast sharper.
Gabriel had always been like this with him— poking, prodding, trying to get a reaction.
Still, beneath the teasing they did look out for each other.
Gabriel had never been shy about sharing details of his own dating life. Whenever they met up, he talked about everything. Every date, every story. Trusting Miguel to listen.
Miguel had always been the opposite.
He hadn’t dated in a while anyways, so there hadn’t been much to say.
And with you… things were still new.
You’d only gone on one proper date— the one you initiated. He didn’t know where this was going yet. And until then, he’d rather keep it to himself.
Gabriel lifted the mug to take another sip before speaking. “You’re thinking about her right now, aren’t you?”
“I’m literally sitting here.”
“And somehow you still look like you’re somewhere else.” He set the mug down and leaned back against the couch. “So when do I meet her?”
Miguel stiffened at that, shooting him a look.
“You’re not meeting anyone.”
“Wow. Protective already.” Gabriel rested his arms behind his head. “She must be something.”
After that, Gabriel seemed to finally drop the subject the rest of the morning. But Miguel knew better than to think it was over.
The next time he came over, he’d bring you up again. And when he did, he’d have more questions. Miguel would be ready for that.
Or at least… he hoped he would.
~
The glow from your laptop screen reflected faintly on Miguel’s glasses as he worked. You sat beside him in the chair near his desk, watching his fingers move quickly across the keyboard, the soft rhythmic clicking filling the small office.
He adjusted his frames and furrowed his brow in concentration. You tilted your head slightly before looking back at the screen, fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater.
“Please don’t judge me,” you joked, with a hint of nervousness.
Miguel’s lips twitched. “That’s never a good way to start.”
After sending Miguel that text about your laptop, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about seeing him again. It was silly, considering you were going to see him at lunch time anyway, but something about the thought of stopping by his desk first thing in the morning made you feel fluttery inside.
So the moment you clocked in, you made your way straight to the IT department.
Miguel had only just arrived himself. You caught him in the middle of settling in, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, revealing the pale dress shirt underneath.
Your eyes lingered for a second longer than they probably should have before Miguel greeted you warmly. You quickly forced yourself to look away.
Seeing him first thing in the morning already felt like it was going to make the rest of your day better.
And now here you were, sitting beside him while he examined your laptop.
“My laptop's been making noises,” you admitted sheepishly.
Miguel glanced over. “Noises?”
“Like a tiny airplane trying to take off.”
Miguel glanced down at the keyboard, pressing a few keys.
“That’s the fan.”
“It sounds… stressed.”
“It is stressed…” He tilted the screen toward himself and squinted slightly.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft clicking of Miguel typing. Every few seconds he paused, studying the screen as if piecing something together.
Until he stopped entirely.
“You have a lot running right now… including three weather tabs open,” he pointed out, not accusing.
You opened your mouth to respond but found no clever remark to defend yourself with. Mostly because he was right. You had completely forgotten how many things were running. Half the time you didn’t even remember to log out or shut the computer down properly.
Miguel huffed a quiet laugh at your gaping silence, shaking his head as he clicked through the programs.
“Your computer’s basically begging for mercy,” he said.
“So it’s not dying?”
“No. Just overheating.” He leaned closer to the screen, typing something quickly. “I’ll clean up some background processes and it should stop sounding like that.”
You nodded, watching him work for a moment. Hearing him say that he would fix something felt reassuring now, because you knew he would get it done quickly.
His concentration was intense, his brow slightly furrowed behind his frames. The quiet between you never felt awkward, especially when you watched him like this.
You tried not to stare too hard as you noticed the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. The same chest you rested your cheek on, feeling his heartbeat.
Your stomach fluttered at the memory. Neither of you had mentioned that night again after that. Maybe Miguel didn’t want to make things awkward.
You remembered how wrinkled his shirt was when you both woke up that morning, the top two buttons undone and his hair unkempt— how comfortable and relaxed he looked in your living room.
Now his shirt was crisp and neatly buttoned to the collar. A contrast to what he had allowed you to see that Friday evening. There was something intimate about seeing both sides of him.
Your gaze drifted back up to the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.
And that was when you noticed it.
A faint smudge on his lens.
You perked up. “Wait.”
Miguel halted.
“What?”
“Your glasses.”
He reached up instinctively. “What about them?”
“They’re smudged,” you paused before leaning forward. “Hold on.”
You stood from your chair and reached toward him, fingers brushing lightly against the arms of his glasses. Miguel stiffened at the sudden closeness, but he didn’t stop you.
Carefully, you slid the glasses off his face, making sure not to poke him with the frame. You wiped the lenses clean, checking for any remaining smudges before turning back to him.
You could have just handed them back.
But something came over you in the moment— boldness, maybe.
Whatever it was, it made you ignore the quiet logic nagging at you as you leaned closer again, lifting the glasses to slide them back onto his face. Miguel’s eyes fluttered briefly as you adjusted the frames until they sat just right.
“There. Better?” you asked, your voice coming out softer than you expected at that moment.
Miguel blinked once behind the lenses.
“Yeah… thanks.”
But you didn’t pull your hands away.
They lingered lightly on the arms of his glasses. You heard his breath stutter, but his eyes never left yours.
You couldn’t bring yourself to move, too drawn to the closeness now. Your gaze drifted from his eyes behind the lenses, down the line of his cheek, to his lips— lingering there for a moment before returning his gaze again.
The memory of that night surfaced in your mind again, the warmth, the closeness. It still hadn’t properly sunk in that you were even closer to him now than you had been then.
Miguel was still watching you, his lips slightly parted, as if he were patiently waiting to see what you would do next.
The uncertainty was still there in the way he looked at you. But so was the curiosity.
Just to test the waters, you leaned a little closer. Your hands slid down to rest against his cheeks.
Miguel leaned forward too, just barely, letting out a quiet, shaky breath as his hands lifted to brush against yours where they rested on his face.
And then, your phone vibrated.
The moment shattered immediately.
But for a second, neither of you moved.
You hands were still on his face, his breath warm against yours, like the moment hasn’t quite caught up with reality yet.
Then your hands dropped and you both pulled away at the same time, like you’d been caught in the middle of something you weren’t supposed to be doing.
“Shit—”
Your heart rate spiked.
How did this even happen?
How did you even allow it to happen?
Neither of you spoke for a moment. You both looked away, the heat of embarrassment crawling up your neck. Suddenly, you were fixated on the blank wall in front of you, wishing you could somehow disappear into it.
And yet you could still feel Miguel’s presence beside you, heavy in the silence.
You dared a quick glance back at his direction. He had turned his head slightly, one hand rubbing over his stubble as if he was still processing what had just happened.
Your phone vibrated again against the desk.
Right…
You quickly grabbed it, pulse still thumping loudly in your ears. A message from your manager asking you where you were.
Seeing his name on your screen suddenly reminded you exactly where you were— that this wasn’t another quiet moment where it was just the two of you.
It was an open office.
At work.
Which somehow made the whole situation even more mortifying.
Miguel adjusted his glasses again absentmindedly, still avoiding your gaze.
You swallowed and slipped your phone back into your pocket.
“Uhm…” you started, immediately regretting opening your mouth without knowing what to say.
Miguel finally looked back at you.
His expression didn’t reveal much, but you knew him well enough by now to recognise the storm of thoughts probably running through his mind.
Strangely, he looked more composed than you felt. Though maybe he was just trying to collect himself.
“I should uhm— go to my office,” you said, lifting your laptop from the desk. “My manager is asking for me.”
Miguel nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah… yeah, that’s fine.”
A small pause.
“We can… talk later.”
His words hung between you, making your stomach flip at the implication of them. You slid your laptop back into your bag, brushing at your clothes as if smoothing out wrinkles that weren’t really there.
As you turned to leave, you caught Miguel glancing at your lips one last time before quickly looking away. Like the sight had burned him.
~
“There you are. I was starting to think IT kidnapped you.”
You stumbled back into your designated department, catching your breath from rushing up the stairs. And of course, your manager had to throw a sarcastic remark the moment you walked in.
You placed your back under your desk, still taking a few steady breaths before answering.
“Sorry. My laptop was making…. noises.”
“Noises?”
You nodded. “Apparently it was just overheating. But it’s okay. I got IT to fix it.”
“Good. By the way, I will need those quarterly reports later.”
“Right. Reports.”
The words barely registered.
Miguel’s expression as you left flashed back in your mind— the way his eyes lingered on your, like there was something left unsaid.
You wondered what had been going through his head at that moment. Embarrassment. That thought alone eased something slightly in your chest, knowing he felt the same way you did
But there was something else too, something you couldn’t describe.
“Are you alright?” your manager asked.
You nodded quickly, trying to look present in the moment.
“Yeah… yeah of course.”
Your manager studied you for a second. “You look out of it.”
Your ears felt warm. You quickly shook off the moment and forced a wry smile.
“Just trying to get back into things after the weekend,” you said lightly.
Not a complete lie, Monday mornings were always the hardest. Your manager nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.
You sat down at your desk, immediately reaching for your mouse— then pausing, fingers hovering like you’d forgotten what you were about to do.
Despite trying to forget about what just happened in the IT office, you knew you were going to see Miguel at lunch. So the moment would come up again. Or at the very least, the aftermath of it would.
You couldn’t stop yourself from replaying the moment over and over. The small pause after you placed his glasses back on him. Your hands lingering on his face, fingers curling slightly like they forgot to let go.
The way Miguel looked back up at you. And then you leaned in, slowly closing the gap. Your breath caught.
Did he lean in too? Or did you imagine it?
You frowned slightly.
No— he did. He had to have. His hands were reaching for you. And the way he pulled away too like he was just as guilty.
You brushed your fingers over your lips, still feeling the ghost of his breath, warm and uneven.
Were you really about to kiss in an office on a Monday morning?
Why did that feel so much more daunting than it should’ve?
You had literally slept on the couch together, and you woke up on his chest. And yet that— that almost kiss— felt like crossing a line you couldn’t ignore.
A kiss, something that would only last a few seconds, was nothing compared to being in each other's personal space the whole night.
No, it was more than that.
Because sleeping beside him had just happened. A quiet series of moments that led there naturally. It was nothing but sleeping arrangements.
But a kiss required intention. And intention meant risk. That was why it felt more intimate, even if it were just a few seconds of spark. Once it happened, there was no pretending it was a coincidence anymore.
You exhaled slowly, pressing your lips together as your gaze flickered around the office before settling back on your screen.
You remembered the small IT office with the cables lining the walls and fluorescent lighting. That wasn’t exactly the setting you imagined for a first kiss.
Not compared to your apartment with the quiet and warmth. The soft glow of the lamps and candles. The office couldn’t compare to that romantic atmosphere.
Romantic…
No, why were you thinking about romance so soon.
It had barely been a couple of weeks. Still… a small part of you felt disappointed that it didn’t happen.
That feeling twisted quickly into something else though— relief.
At least you weren’t forced to react. At least you had time to think.
Thankfully you were interrupted by a text message, and not someone walking in. You couldn’t even imagine how it would go if someone caught you in the act. The mercy of timing, even if it did sting.
Your fingers stilled against the desk. You leaned in first. The memory twisted uncomfortably in your stomach. Miguel was reaching for you… but what if he was just reacting? What if he hadn’t meant to?
You exhaled sharply, looking back at your monitor but not really paying attention. Did you ruin everything?
You didn’t want to start falling into a rabbit hole of what-ifs. So you forced yourself to be practical, focusing on your work for the next few hours, running on autopilot. You got through more than you expected.
And then, inevitably, you found yourself zoning out again, staring blankly at the text on your screen. Your manager walked past, barely passing you a glance.
“Can you send me those updated figures before lunch? Thanks.”
“Yeah. Of course,” you replied automatically.
The words floated around in your head, not fully landing until a second later. Your brows furrowed slightly.
Wait.
… what figures?
You blinked, glancing up, but your manager was already gone. And then it clicked.
Right.
Those figures.
Your heart picked up slightly at how far gone you’d been. You opened your inbox and clicked to compose a new email, your cursor moving on instinct.
Before you even realised what you were doing, you’d typed a name into the subject line.
Miguel.
Your stomach flipped.
You froze for a split second before quickly deleting it, glancing around your desk as if someone might’ve seen your screen over your shoulder.
You stared at the now-empty subject line. This was getting ridiculous. You really needed to get a grip.
At least lunch wasn’t too far away.
~
Miguel tapped his finger on his computer mouse rapidly, the soft clicks filling the quiet of his office as he checked the time on his monitor for the umpteenth time.
Lunchtime couldn’t come any slower.
He adjusted his collar again, loosening the fabric slightly. Ever since that morning, it felt too tight around his neck, almost suffocating. He wasn’t sure if it was just something to keep his hands busy… or if it had more to do with the way his chest hasn’t quite settled since you left.
His gaze drifted toward the spot where you’d been standing earlier. Where you reached for his glasses. The way you hovered when you put them back on. The memory was still too fresh.
Your hands had been against his face, and it made something in his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain. You looked… close. Closer than you’d ever been.
Pretty.
He almost hadn’t even realised what was happening at first. Not until your eyes fluttered and you leaned in. His grip on the mouse tightened slightly.
There had been a moment, brief but loud in his head, where he hesitated. Too many thoughts and cautions flooded in his head all at once. Too many ways it could go wrong.
And then he leaned in too. A slow exhale left him.
And just like that, it was over.
Cut short before he could even process it properly. Since then… nothing from you. No messages. No follow-up. Even though he’d checked his phone more times than he cared to admit.
That worried him. He knew he was going to see you at lunch, yet still…
Did he make you uncomfortable?
His jaws tightened slightly.
Maybe he should’ve said something. Anything, instead of just reacting impulsively. But what could he have said?
Anything in that moment would’ve made it more awkward if he spoke. Now lunch was coming, and with it, the conversation he said he’d have later.
His gaze flickered back to the clock. How were you even supposed to bring something like that up?
Would you?
Or would you both pretend it didn’t happen?
The thought sat uneasily in his gut. Because ignoring it didn’t feel right either. Not when it loomed over him like this. He sighed quietly, running a hand over his face. He just hoped you didn’t regret it.
At last, lunch time had arrived. Miguel had never stood up from his seat so fast. He didn’t know why he was so keen to see you after what had happened earlier. Maybe he just needed to know how this would unfold.
Which was unlike him.
Miguel was never good with confrontations, especially not with people he cared about.
You were already standing outside the break room. There it was— the small, familiar smile when you saw him. But your posture was a little stiff. Just enough for him to notice.
Had the events from earlier affected you that much too?
“Hey…” you breathed.
“Hey.”
A small pause followed, the two of you slowly starting to clock each other
“You, uh… made it through the morning,” you said.
“Barely.” Miguel shrugged.
“Same.”
Neither of you said anything else as you walked to your table. Miguel walked slightly ahead, his pace just enough that he didn’t have to look directly at you.
He wasn’t sure if you were watching him from behind or avoiding his gaze entirely— and he didn’t want to think too hard about it either.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… heavier than usual.
The scrape of the chair against the floor sounded louder than it should’ve, making him wince slightly as he pulled it out. You sat down first, pulling your lunch from your bag, but you didn’t start eating.
“Did the rest of your computers survive today?” you asked casually.
“For now, give it an hour.” Miguel reached into his bag, pulling out his food container.
“I’ll try not to break mine again,” you murmured.
Miguel glanced up briefly, giving a small smile. “I don’t think it was your fault.”
You both took a bite from your food, exchanging glances. You didn’t say anything else after that. But the tension lingered, quiet and persistent, like something waiting to be acknowledged.
Miguel shifted slightly in his seat, searching for something to say. Anything to keep the silence from stretching too far
“Did your laptop start making noise again?”
It was safe. Neutral. Something he could ask without thinking too much. But really, he just wanted to hear you talk again.
You shook your head. “No. It’s been quiet. Thanks for fixing it.”
“Anytime.”
He let his gaze linger for a moment longer, studying your expression. From the looks of it, you looked normal. At least, you were trying to be. Just like him.
He looked back at his food, taking a few bites, though even that felt like effort. His fork hovered for a moment longer before he absently turned it between his fingers, his thoughts elsewhere.
The silence crept back, but this time, he felt it. His eyes flickered up to you again without meaning to.
“You seem distracted,” you said.
Miguel met your gaze. “I could say the same.”
You only shrugged, taking another bite from your food, like it gave you an excuse not to respond. That was it.
Something in him shifted. The fork felt heavy between his fingers. He couldn’t just leave it like this. Not when it was sitting right there between you
After all, he was the one that said he was going to discuss it later
“About earlier—” he began.
You perked up immediately, your attention fully on him. Too late to take it back now. The words felt lodged in his throat but he forced himself to continue, before he backpedaled.
“Sorry… I just— I didn’t want to make you feel…”
He stopped himself, the sentence unfinished but clear enough.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you said.
He nodded once. “Okay.”
Relief came, but it still didn’t settle everything. Not even close. Because that still left everything else
How was he supposed to unpack this? What would you even say? He didn’t need to ask what you were trying to do earlier. He knew.
The way you leaned in. The way your hands stayed on his face. His cheeks still felt warm where you touched him… or maybe that was from how warm the room was getting.
He swallowed, fixing his collar again then reaching up to adjust his glasses. Only to pause briefly at the motion.
Right… the thing that started all this.
You let out a soft laugh, breaking the tension just enough.
“We’re really really good at making normal situations complicated.”
Miguel huffed quietly. “Yeah… we are.”
It was supposed to sound lighthearted. And it did… slightly. But the thought lingered anyway. Was this even a normal situation— trying to kiss your coworker while on the clock?
He finally took another bite of his food, more out of habit than anything else, his mind still circling back to the same place.
“I, um… I leaned in first,” you confessed quietly, avoiding his eyes before taking a small bite.
It wasn’t much, but it eased that tension that wedged between you, just enough.
“I know,” Miguel said. “I didn’t stop you.”
“It wasn’t accidental.”
“No… I don’t think it was.” Miguel swallowed. “I didn’t mind.”
“I didn’t want to stop.”
“Me neither,” he admitted. “I would’ve kept going.”
It was the truth, quiet but undeniable.
And yet, as the words left his mouth, a flicker of hesitation crept in. Not regret— definitely not that. Just awareness.
Maybe this was a little too fast. Not in a bad way, but just enough that it made him pause. He didn’t want to rush things with you. Not when everything so far had unfolded in a way that felt right.
Still, a kiss felt like a step neither of you had fully prepared for. His thoughts drifted briefly, recalling Gabriel unsolicited comments from the other day.
How nervous he looked.
Yeah. That tracked.
You made him nervous in a way that didn’t feel like something to avoid, but something to be careful with.
“So… now what?” you asked.
Miguel’s expression softened.
“We don't have to figure it out right now.” He paused slightly before continuing. “But maybe just... don't try to kiss in the IT office.”
You laughed again. “Yeah. Probably a good place to start.”
Miguel let out a quiet breath, taking another bite of his food. This felt more manageable. The rest of your lunch went better.
Conversation flowed easier— small, familiar things. Work, nothing important. Just enough to fill the space between you without pressing too hard on what had already been said.
He looked down at his food, pushing it around the container with his fork. His thoughts wandered again, this time, he didn’t quite stop them.
They circled back to you.
He thought about the conversation again.
From your close proximity. To the way you’d laugh just now.
He thought back to when he made you homemade food for lunch. And then another scenario popped into his head, uninviting.
Dinner. With you. At his place.
He stilled for a moment. Where did that come from?
But his imagination unravelled further. You, sitting on his kitchen countertop, the low hum of the fan overhead filling the quiet. The soft light catching along your features just right.
Him handing you a small taste test before plating anything properly. Waiting for your reaction.
His stomach flipped, almost shaking his head at himself for thinking so far. It was way too soon. Sure, you shared breakfast together but that was spontaneous.
Dinner was a chance to wind down together, be closer while he would share something he loved in his own personal space.
The last thing he wanted was to make things weird again after you’d just managed to steady them.
Still… the thought sent a pleasurable shiver through him.
“Are you alright?” you asked, tilting your head.
Miguel almost jolted at your question, but nodded quickly.
“Yeah…” he cleared his throat lightly. “Just thinking about the workload I have to do after this.”
“Hmm, me too. I probably have to head back now anyway,” you huffed.
He nodded, grateful for the shift, even if his mind hadn’t fully let go of where it had been moments ago. The thought still floated in his head.
As you both stood and made your way out of the break room, you slowed just slightly at the doorway and shared a glance
Then you both went your separate ways, the rest of your shift moving forward.
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