✧ “Bad Signal” (modern sugar-momma Caitlyn / secret crush / forced proximity)

—

Caitlyn had tried to keep it together.

Tried not to look too long when you wore short skirts to the firm’s building. Tried not to hover when your voice got soft or your lip gloss caught the light. Tried not to let herself imagine what it would be like to reach over and cup your cheek when you got pouty, or press her palm to your lower back when crowds made you nervous.

But her self-control? It was fraying.

Especially now.

The elevator had jolted to a halt halfway between floors. Lights flickered, power buzzed out. You’d let out a tiny gasp beside her — she caught your elbow out of instinct, her touch a little too firm, a little too fast.

She let go just as quick, straightening her cuffs, clearing her throat like it might fix the ache curling in her gut.

The space was small. No windows. Only a dim emergency bulb above you both, casting a bluish halo that made your skin look even softer than usual.

She stood stiffly in the corner, one hand braced against the wall, phone lifted for signal — nothing. You’d already tried the emergency call button.

Now it was just the two of you. Close. Way too close.

Caitlyn was dressed like always: tailored slacks, navy dress shirt, gold rings catching the light. You were curled up in the opposite corner, legs crossed in that way that made her mouth go dry.

She didn’t speak. Her jaw ticked.

She was very aware of how good you smelled. Of the soft sound your shoe made when it tapped the floor. Of the way you looked up at her — curious, unbothered, waiting for her to do something.

You smiled like you weren’t crumbling her piece by piece.

Her pulse jumped. She stared at the floor.

Caitlyn stood stiffly in the cramped elevator, one hand braced against the wall, phone lifted for signal—nothing. You were curled up in the opposite corner, legs crossed, calm yet curious.

She glanced down at you and muttered, voice low and tight, “Shouldn’t be long—”

The elevator shuddered violently, then lurched to an immediate stop. The lights flickered once, twice, then went dark, leaving only the soft glow of the emergency bulb above. The sudden silence pressed in around you both.

You gasped softly. Caitlyn’s hand shot out instinctively, steadying you by the waist before she quickly pulled back, her breath hitching. The air between you thickened with tension and unspoken words.

No escape. No distractions. Just the two of you, trapped in a bubble of dim light and racing hearts.

Lifting your gaze, a familiar face came into view. Their black fringe hair and eyes were unmistakable, though they appeared more serious than before. ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·