Keifer pov:
I saw her before she saw me.
Jay, crouched by the mail slot, completely focused. Her hair fell in front of her face, and my chest tightened in a way that felt unfair. Every time I saw her like this, calm, determined, untouchable… I wanted to reach out.
I stepped closer. Carefully. "Jay."
No reaction. She didn't look up. Not immediately.
Her hands lingered over the letters, like she wasn't even aware I was there.
"Mail's jammed?" I asked softly, trying to sound casual.
Still no look.
"I've got it," she said, her voice clipped, distant.
I crouched slightly to peek at the mail slot—our shoulders nearly touched—and my hand accidentally brushed hers.
Her words came sharp and immediate: "Don't."
I froze. Just a brush. And still, I felt the weight of every boundary she'd set between us.
"Why not?" I whispered, leaning just a little closer.
She finally met my eyes. Firm. Steady. Cold enough to remind me of everything I'd done wrong. "Because I told you."
I grinned, the corner of my lips tugging up despite the sting of her words. "You always make me follow the rules."
"I always have to," she said. "Otherwise you'd get too comfortable."
I laughed softly, low and warm, trying to keep it light. "I could get used to this."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't."
I leaned casually against the wall beside her. Not touching—well, not fully—but close enough to feel her energy. "You're impossible," I said, voice quiet, almost admiring.
"I'm protective of my sanity," she shot back, sharp as a blade.
I tilted my head, playful, pretending to be offended. "And yet, here I am… hovering in your hallway like an idiot."
She snorted, brushing hair behind her ear. I couldn't stop staring. She was infuriatingly perfect, infuriatingly untouchable, and infuriatingly mine—even if she refused to admit it.
"Jay," I said suddenly, quieter now, softer, leaning just a little in, my words almost a whisper. "Even like this… I can't stop thinking about you."
Her gaze stayed level. Calm. Cold. Firm. "Good. Because I don't need you to."
I groaned, dramatically, like the world had turned against me. "You're cruel and beautiful. I swear… all at once."
She laughed quietly, brushing her hair back again, and my chest twisted with something I hated and loved at the same time.
"Flatter me all you want, Keifer," she said. "Doesn't mean I forgive you."
Her words were like ice, but I swallowed the ache and grinned. "Yeah… I figured. But it's fun trying anyway."
She shook her head, picking up her mail, acting like nothing had happened.
"Go home before someone sees you loitering," she said firmly.
I stepped back reluctantly. "Fine," I said, voice low. "But… I'll be back. You know I will."
She gave me a small, controlled smile. Not soft. Not welcoming. But not hostile either.
"See that you don't," she said.
And I left the hallway, heart pounding, chest tight, knowing one thing:
Even if she didn't forgive me, even if I couldn't touch her… I had seen that smile. That tiny spark.
And I couldn't stop thinking about it.