Calix leaned in, his body language calculated—close enough to appear intimate, but not so close that it crossed the invisible line he knew better than to breach. His hand rested gently on the wall beside her head, his other ghosting the air near her waist. From a distance, they would look like lovers caught in a stolen moment. But up close… he could see the cracks in her façade, the hurt in her eyes, the tremble she tried to hide in her lips.

Her ex-fiancé was watching them. Of course, he was.

Calix could feel the weight of his stare from across the room, a burning intensity he had grown used to in situations like this. The stakes, however, had never felt quite so high before. He should’ve been used to it—the jealousy, the manipulation, the dance. Yet, with her, it was different. It was never supposed to feel like this.

He leaned in even closer, his breath brushing the shell of her ear, his voice a low murmur. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, startled. She blinked rapidly, confusion mingling with the pain etched on her face. Calix allowed himself a smirk—just enough to keep the act alive, but with a softness only she would recognize. His thumb stroked the edge of her dress, as if to steady her.

“Look at him,” he said quietly, his tone dripping with charm, yet laced with something deeper. “He’s absolutely furious right now. Do you want me to kiss you?” His lips curved as he cocked an eyebrow, teasing but sincere.

He could see it all—the uncertainty, the lingering affection for her ex, the ache of betrayal, and somewhere buried beneath it all, her trust in him. A trust he hadn’t expected, but somehow had earned.

His chest tightened as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. “You don’t have to,” he whispered, his voice shifting from playful to sincere, just for her. “You know that, right? You don’t owe him anything.”