Timothy didn’t let go.
Instead…
His other hand slowly came up, covering the one already wrapped around my wrist, gently cradling it between both of his palms.
It wasn’t possessive.
It wasn’t demanding.
It felt…
Safe.
As though he was afraid that if he loosened his grip, this moment—whatever it was becoming—would simply disappear.
The office around us faded into silence.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, assistants hurried between buildings carrying stacks of scripts.
Somewhere down the hallway, a phone rang before being answered.
Someone laughed in the distance.
Life continued.
But inside my office…
Time stood still.
Timothy leaned forward.
Only slightly.
Not enough to invade my space.
Just enough that I could see every tiny detail of his face.
The faint shadow of stubble along his jaw after a long rehearsal.
The tiredness hidden beneath his dark eyes.
The nervous rise and fall of his breathing.
It struck me then…
I had spent nearly two years studying this man’s expressions.
I knew the slight crease that appeared between his brows whenever a script frustrated him.
I knew the tiny smile he gave after finishing a difficult scene.
I knew the way he unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck whenever he felt overwhelmed.
I knew him.
Perhaps…
Far better than anyone else at Zion Entertainment.
His eyes searched mine.
Quietly.
Patiently.
As though asking permission without speaking.
My heartbeat grew louder inside my ears.
The distance between us became almost nonexistent.
Then…
I closed my eyes.
Not because I was certain.
Because I trusted him.
I trusted the man sitting beside me more than I trusted my own thoughts.
His breathing stopped for a brief second.
When his lips finally met mine…
The kiss was impossibly gentle.
There was no urgency.
No desperation.
No performance.
Nothing like the carefully choreographed kisses audiences paid to watch on movie screens.
This was simply…
Timothy.
His lips lingered softly against mine before slowly pulling away, leaving only the warmth of the moment between us.
As though he was silently asking…
Is this alright?
Without opening my eyes…
I answered the only way I knew how.
I leaned forward again.
Our lips met once more.
A quiet breath escaped him.
Relief.
His hand left my wrist, moving slowly upward until it rested lightly against my cheek.
His thumb brushed across my skin with such tenderness that it made my chest ache.
The second kiss lasted a little longer.
Not because either of us wanted to lose ourselves in it…
But because neither of us wanted to rush what had taken two years to reach.
When we finally separated, our foreheads rested lightly together.
Neither of us spoke.
Words suddenly felt unnecessary.
I opened my eyes first.
Timothy was already looking at me.
There was no triumph in his expression.
No confidence.
Only vulnerability.
Hollywood’s biggest star looked strangely…
Human.
“I can’t believe…” I whispered, almost laughing at myself.
He frowned gently.
“What?” “I can’t believe you’re kissing me.” A small, confused smile crossed his face.
“I mean…” I lowered my eyes, suddenly embarrassed.
“You’re Timothy Zion.” “The Timothy Zion.” “The actor everyone admires.” “The man magazines call the most eligible bachelor in Hollywood.” I let out a quiet breath.
“And I’m just…” I searched for the words.
“…me.” Silence followed.
Then…
Timothy reached up with both hands and gently lifted my chin until I looked at him again.
His expression had changed.
There was sadness in his eyes now.
Not because of the kiss.
Because of what I’d just said.
“You really believe that?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
I looked away.
“I’ve never understood why someone like you would…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
He understood anyway.
A faint smile touched his lips—not amused, but affectionate.
“Lauria.” He spoke my name as though it deserved every ounce of care he possessed.
“Do you know when I first noticed you?” I blinked.
“The day I wiped dust off your jacket?” He chuckled softly.
“No.” “The day you complimented Shadow Hearts?” Again he shook his head.
“It was before either of those.” I frowned.
“When?” “The first day.” I stared at him.
“When Clara introduced us.” I searched my memory.
“I didn’t do anything.” “Exactly.” He smiled.
“Everyone else looked at Timothy Zion.” He placed a hand against his own chest.
“You looked at Timothy.” “The person standing in front of you.” I remained silent.
“You weren’t trying to impress me.” “You weren’t nervous.” “You weren’t pretending to know everything.” “You were simply…” He paused, searching for the right word.
“…honest.” His eyes softened.
“And over the last two years…” “I watched that honesty stay exactly the same.” He laughed quietly.
“You argued with producers when they wanted me to accept projects I didn’t believe in.” “You stayed in the office until midnight rewriting schedules so exhausted crew members could actually go home.” “You forgot to drink your own coffee because you were making sure everyone else had eaten.” He smiled to himself.
“You celebrated my successes more than your own.” “And every time I thanked you…” “You acted like it wasn’t a big deal.” His thumb brushed gently against my cheek.
“Lauria…” “I didn’t fall in love with someone extraordinary because she’s famous.” “I fell in love with someone extraordinary because she’s kind.” My breath caught.
“I’ve watched you put everyone else first.” “I’ve watched you believe in stories no one else believed in.” “I’ve watched you change my career.” He smiled warmly.
“But none of those things…” “Were why I fell in love with you.” I looked into his eyes.
“Then why?” His answer came without hesitation.
“Because when I’m with you…” He laughed softly.
“I don’t feel like Timothy Zion.” There was a long pause.
“I just feel like…” He searched for the words before smiling.
“…myself.” The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.
It was peaceful.
For the first time in a long time…
Neither of us was thinking about movie schedules.
Or awards.
Or press tours.
Or Hollywood.
There was only the quiet office.
The afternoon sunlight.
Two cups of forgotten coffee.
And two people who had slowly, patiently, unknowingly…
Found their way to each other.
Without another word…
I reached for his hand.
This time…
It was my turn.
And when our fingers intertwined, Timothy smiled with a warmth I had never seen before.
No cameras.
No audience.
No acting.
Just us.