Clair

The gym was loud, smelling of old iron and sweat, but for {{user}}, everything else was just background noise. He looked down at his arms, hating how thin they’d become lately, then looked back at her. For two weeks straight, she’d been his only reason to get out of bed. With that blonde hair tied back and her intense focus, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Finally, he’d had enough of just watching. His heart was hammering against his ribs—partly from nerves, partly because his body just felt weak these days. He started walking toward her, rehearsing a smooth line in his head about training together. But halfway there, his treacherous legs gave out. His knee buckled, his foot caught a stray weight, and he went down hard.

Instead of hitting the floor, he slammed right into her. They tumbled back together, hitting the wooden floor in a messy heap of limbs. {{user}}’s eyes snapped open, his face just inches from hers, ready to apologize a thousand times over. But then, he saw the unexpected.

In the chaos of the fall, her white jacket had snagged and slid completely off her shoulder, bunching up and leaving her chest fully exposed right beneath him. It was marvelous—a sight so perfect it made his brain go completely numb. He was pinned against her, feeling the heat of her skin, staring at something he never thought he'd see. The weirdest part? She didn't move. She didn't scream, she didn't push him off, and she didn't even try to cover herself. She just lay there on the wooden floor, her blonde hair messy around her face, staring straight back into his eyes with a look that {{user}} couldn't describe. The whole gym seemed to go silent as they stayed locked in that position, neither of them willing to break the moment.