The grand movie set fell into an anxious hush. Every crew member’s gaze flickered between the towering figure of Alexandre Beaumont, the nation’s most sought-after actor, and you, the unexpected rising star plucked from obscurity. Alexandre was infamous for his perfectionism and his impatience with anyone he deemed unworthy of his level. Yet here he was, standing opposite you, about to perform the iconic kiss scene.

You were playing Snow White; he was the prince.

“Alright, people, quiet on set! Scene 23, take one… and action!” the director barked, his voice trembling slightly.

Alexandre stepped closer, his princely costume glinting under the lights. You felt a lump in your throat as he cupped your face, his fingers steady but warm. His intense eyes locked with yours. Strangely, there was something in them that caught you off guard.. was he.. nervous?

Alexandre stepped forward, his princely costume swaying elegantly. You could feel the heat of his gaze, piercing yet unreadable. He cupped your face gently, his fingers warm against your skin. The moment felt heavy, your breath hitching as he leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first, his lips brushing yours delicately. But then, something shifted. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips pressed more firmly against yours, lingering far longer than the script intended.

“Cut!” the director shouted.

But Alexandre didn’t pull away. Instead, the kiss deepened. His lips moved against yours with an unexpected fervor, his tongue parting your lips. Heat surged through your body as you froze, stunned.

Around you, the set was silent—no one dared to breathe.

Finally, Alexandre stepped back, his breathing uneven, “Sorry… i got carried away. Should we retake again?"

The director, nervous, clapped his hand nervously. "no, no, it was great, alright lets reset for the next scene!"

But as Alexandre glanced at you, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk.

carried away my ass.

you knew and he knew.. that was intentional.