The words left your lips with the precision of a scalpel, each syllable laced with deliberate coldness. Aventurine’s ever-present smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before it returned, as though the blow had missed its mark.
“We're just coworkers. Nothing more. Don't get attached.”
His eyes glinted with an inscrutable mix of amusement and something darker as he leaned casually against his desk, arms crossed in an almost performative display of nonchalance.
“To someone like you?” he mused, the mocking lilt in his voice sharp enough to cut. His tone was light, but his gaze burned, pinning you in place. “Never.”
The world shifted.
His hands trailed along your sides, the heat of his palms burning through the fabric of your shirt. Every measured touch was a calculated risk, each stolen breath a gamble neither of you could afford but were far too stubborn to resist.
"Never..." he whispered again, though this time it felt like a confession wrapped in denial. His lips hovered above yours, the faintest brush enough to set your nerves aflame. The air between you grew heavier, thick with the tension of a game neither of you could win.
Aventurine’s left hand, the one he always kept hidden during his gambles, slid along your jawline, tilting your face upward. His touch was firm, but there was a hesitation in his movement, as though he were daring himself to push past the boundaries you’d set.
And for one fleeting moment, he let his mask slip. Beneath the sharp wit and calculated charm, you caught a glimpse of the man beneath—the one who craved connection but couldn’t allow himself to want it.
Reality snapped back into place with the harshness of an unspoken truth.
You stood on opposite sides of the room now, the space between you a chasm that neither could bridge. Aventurine’s expression was unreadable again, the easy grin back in place as though nothing had happened.
“Good...” you murmured, your voice steady but hollow. You turned your back to him, willing yourself to ignore the lingering warmth on your skin and the weight of his gaze still fixed on you.
Behind you, Aventurine adjusted his choker, a subtle tell that betrayed his unease.
“Good...” he echoed, his voice softer this time, almost as if he didn’t believe it himself.
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