Later, in a quieter corner of the gala, Mau sipped sparkling water, sketchbook in hand. Tim appeared beside her as if by gravity, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"You're… a puzzle," he said, leaning casually against the marble counter.
"And you're very persistent," Mau replied, not looking up from her sketches.
"Do I get bonus points for noticing?" he asked, voice teasing.
"Depends on whether your interest is genuine or just curiosity about an anonymous designer," she quipped, smirk curling.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Maybe a little of both. But I don't like puzzles that stay unsolved."
Mau's fingers paused mid-sketch. Lira peeked around the corner, whispering: "This is either romantic tension or imminent disaster. Or both. I vote both."
Aida, silently observing, shook her head, smiling faintly. Mau's charm, quiet but effective, and the chemistry brewing with Tim was undeniable—but she made mental notes of keeping him at a safe distance until the stakes were clear.
"By the way," Tim said, leaning closer, "I like the way you handle yourself. Calm, measured… but there's fire under that composure."
Mau looked up finally, eyes meeting his, a tiny smirk on her lips. "Fire can be dangerous… but sometimes necessary."
And just like that, the spark ignited—subtle, cutesy, and full of teasing tension, leaving the crowded gala room feeling somehow smaller, somehow intimate, as if only the two of them existed for a few moments.