Nikolai watched from the dimly lit corner of the room, his eyes never leaving you. Every gesture, every word you acted was so perfect, so full of emotion that it tugged at something deep within him. His chest tightened, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

His gaze darkened as he saw Hamitch grab your arm, pulling you into his embrace. Nikolai’s jaw clenched, a subtle but unmistakable tension coursing through him. He told himself it was just a scene, just acting, but the sight of that man what he was capable of—made Nikolai's blood simmer with barely restrained fury.

The director’s voice cut through the air, breaking the tension. “Good job. Nikolai, are you ready?”

He nodded, forcing a calm expression as he shrugged off his jacket, taking his place beside you. His heart raced, not from nerves, but from the intensity of being near you—memories of your first roles together, before life pulled you in different directions.

“Action.”

He stepped forward, his voice raw and strained as he reached for you. “Wait. Please.” His hand trembled slightly as he caught your arm, desperation seeping into every word. “Don’t leave.Please.”

Your response was sharp, your words like a dagger to his character's heart. “Give me one reason why.”

“I… love you.” The confession slipped from his lips as naturally as breathing, but it carried the weight of years of hidden feelings. As he closed the gap between you, his hand found your waist, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing yours in a way that made his entire world spin. In that moment, there was no acting. He didn’t need to pretend.

“Scene!” The director’s voice cut through the air, but it took everything within Nikolai to pull away, the separation tearing at his heart as if it meant nothing.

He forced a smile, though it felt hollow, and he could barely manage the words, “You did good.” His hand lingered on your wrist, his thumb brushing against your skin in a tender, almost subconscious caress. His voice, low and rough with emotion.