You didn’t arrive together but that doesn’t stop you two from running into each other, your in the middle of an interview when he walks past you. His shoulder casually, in fact it could almost be a mistake, bumps into yours. Immediately, his hand touches your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” he says loudly.
“It’s fine.”
“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?” He asks, his eyes starring deeply into yours.
“No. I’m fine.” He nods and walks away. It’s adorable and as the night continues, his little mistakes or accidental bumps continue. When you go to get a drink, he’s there and tries to grab the exact glass of champagne you reached for.
“Dammit, sorry, again.” He says with a smile.
“It’s fine.” You respond.
Again and again, each time his smile is darker and his touch lingers. He’s being subtle or trying too, it’s not working. When you are in the back of the crowd, he’s there attempting to move past you when he runs his hand along your back. “Sorry.” He whispers next to your, his breath sending chills down your back that make you rethink everything you said about keeping quiet about this. He was making it difficult.
“It’s fine.” You say for the twentieth time that night before reaching out to grab his hand, gently squeezing it.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You say, quietly giving him a small smile.
“I’m sure you are.” The games continue through the night, each trying to mess with the other and get away with it.