The training room smelled of polished wood and faint smoke from the stage props. Henley Reeves had been teaching you escapology for weeks now, and while you were improving, your heart still raced every time you tried the more complicated maneuvers.

“Again,” Henley said, her voice sharp but encouraging. “You need to loosen your shoulders. Trust your body, Y/N. You can do this.”

You nodded, gripping the ropes tightly. As you twisted out of the bindings, your foot slipped ever so slightly, and you stumbled—right into her chest.

Henley caught you instantly, one hand firm on your waist. “Careful!” she scolded, though the faint curve of her lips betrayed a smile.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, though your cheeks flamed.

Henley didn’t pull away. Instead, she let you steady yourself against her, eyes scanning yours. “Fine doesn’t mean clumsy. Try again, but slower this time.”

The next attempt was going well… until you “accidentally” fell again—this time forward, landing awkwardly against her shoulder.

Henley’s eyes narrowed, but not in annoyance. More like amusement. “Y/N… I think you’re exaggerating just a little,” she said, adjusting your balance.

“Me? Noooo,” you replied, fighting a laugh while keeping your hands on her arms for support.

She shook her head, brushing her hair back from her face. “Every time you do that, I almost forget I’m supposed to be teaching. You’re making this very… distracting.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Distracting?”

“Yes,” she said, stepping back just a touch—but not too much—so you were close enough to notice her expression softening. “You’re lucky I enjoy teaching. Otherwise, you’d be on the floor.”