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Lost in my thoughts, I hardly notice the sound of footsteps until Natalie’s voice rings in the empty hall, almost like a disembodied spirit in an ancient manor.
"What are you doing here?" she asks, voice edged with surprise.
I turn, slightly startled, to find her watching me with an inquisitive look.
“I work here,” I respond, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fiery Nat that lies just beneath her professional persona. Hopefully, there’s still potential to reach some sort of comfortable comradery despite the circumstances.
Natalie squints back at me. “I understand that. I meant, what are you doing here?”
I smile, satisfied. “Just figured I should know about the delicate, high-level project you've got going on here. You know, I wouldn't want to screw anything up for you with my barbaric, simpleminded work.”
Her expression falters for a moment, flickers of annoyance and embarrassment wrestling in her features. Eventually, she notices my grin, and the professional wall comes down again. Natalie takes a step toward me, cool and collected, and totally ignoring all of my goading.
“So? What do you think, then?” Natalie asks, eyes on the art rather than me.
A little disappointed by her indifference, I give up on trying to get a rise out of her for the time being, instead mirroring her own professionalism.
“To be honest,” I begin, feeling a bit out of my element but genuine in my growing interest, “I’ve never really cared much for fine art, but seeing this room—what you and your team are working on—it’s pretty incredible."
Natalie turns the slightest bit toward me, a small smile tugging at her lips. "It is, isn’t it?" she agrees, her hands slipping into her back pockets as she gazes up at the ceiling. "Each piece tells a story, you know. This art has survived over a century, and now we get to restore it, preserve it for future generations."
Her passion is evident, her sky blue eyes lighting up as she speaks about the work. It’s a side of Natalie I’ve come to admire quietly, her dedication and love for her craft.
For a moment, we stand side by side in silence, sharing in the awe of the artistry that surrounds us. It’s a brief, peaceful interlude from the chaos we’ve been battling.
As we stand together in the quiet grandeur of the Grand Hall, the initial silence gradually shifts into an awkward pause. I realize I've been staring at the art for too long, lost in the swirling colors and the stories they tell, and now I'm probably intruding on Natalie's time.
I draw my eyes back to Nat, ready to apologize for my uninvited presence, but the words won’t come. They stick in my throat as all air flees my lungs, once again caught under Natalie's otherworldly spell.
Her appearance today strikes me afresh, as if seeing her for the first time again. The soft morning light streaming through the nearby window catches in her glossy blonde hair, illuminating it like the halos in the frescoes that adorn the room. Her skin, tanned and glowing, contrasts beautifully against the rich colors of the wall behind her.
She’s dressed practically for her work day, but her paint-splattered overalls don't diminish the elegance she naturally exudes. Rather they hug her figure in just the right way, accentuating the feminine curves I can still feel pressed against me, as if the kiss we shared a few weeks ago never ended. My hands burn, longing to feel her softness under my fingers again.
My heart slams frantically against my ribs. Natalie’s always been attractive, but in this moment, surrounded by the beauty of the art we're both here to protect and restore, her allure is magnified, almost ethereal; a siren, moments from luring me from my ship and down through the waters to my ultimate demise.
I have to get out of here.
"I should probably get to work," I croak, the words sounding false even to my own ears.
Natalie looks up at me, her eyes holding mine, and there's a spark there that seems to ignite the air between us. "Yeah, me too," she responds, her voice equally hoarse, but neither of us makes a move to leave.
This is ridiculous. Never in my whole life—including my military career—have I felt so utterly helpless. It's as if Natalie holds a genuine power over me, dissolving all trepidation and bending my will to hers. I can already feel my resolve slipping away, vanishing into the magnetic draw that neither of us seem capable of resisting.
The few steps between us feel charged, each inch throbbing with the unparalleled attraction that we've been tiptoeing around. Time seems to slow, the painted angels on the walls the only witnesses to the growing desire that fills the room.
Then, drawn by a force neither of us can see but both can feel, Natalie comes to me, so fluidly she seems to float across the floor as she reaches up towards me. Her lips meet mine in an impulsive, searing kiss that nearly topples me.
At first, I'm too stunned to react, rendered utterly senseless by the suddenness of her kiss and the torrent of feelings it unleashes within me.
Then, instinct takes over.
My body responds to hers before my brain can catch up. My hands, finding their way to her waist, crush her against me. I want to feel all of her, every soft dip and curve of her shape molded to mine. My tongue trails over her lips, seeking entry, and she readily opens to me. Deepening the kiss, a hot and unbridled desire scorches along my body, burning through any lingering hesitation I might have felt before this moment.
Somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind, I know I'm the one who put space between us, and for what seemed like a good reason at the time. Yet here I am, not pulling away. I couldn't even if I wanted to.
The past few weeks of pent-up tension between us—hell, the past ten years of not being able to touch each other—has all at once become too much. Neither of us can bare it any longer. And being here at work, giving in despite our better judgements, colors the whole sensation with a forbidden thrill.
Natalie's lips are soft yet demanding, her movements insistent as clutches my shirt, my hair, my neck—any part of me she can get her hands on. This kiss is everything. Everything we've never said, everything we've always needed. And still, greedily, I want more.
