"You know they're gonna ask again tomorrow."

David leaned against the hallway wall outside her hotel room, sleeves rolled up, jaw tense with the usual press-tour exhaustion that somehow made him look even more unfairly handsome.

{{user}} gave a slow blink, keycard in hand. "Ask what?"

He lifted a brow. "If we're dating."

"Right." She smiled, dry. "Should we prep our synchronized eye-rolls this time?"

He chuckled lowly, arms folding across his chest. "We’re getting too good at that, by the way."

There was a beat of silence. Her fingers fumbled a little with the keycard. Nerves? Or something else?

"You think they actually believe we’re not?" she asked suddenly.

David’s eyes met hers, unwavering. “Do you?”

Another pause. Then a nervous laugh. "Don't do that. The intense stare. You're going full brooding heartthrob on me.”

He grinned. “Just practicing for tomorrow’s red carpet.”