You were head over heels in love with Miguel O’Hara. He had completely stolen your heart and he had no idea. You’re not sure how you could fall for someone as cold and distant as Miguel—of course, he wasn’t always like that.

It was the little moments you think, slip ups in his icy demeanor that made you realize that he was just like everyone else. Sometimes he’d laugh at the little quips you’d make, or he would look at you with something softer than usual. With lingering touches and subtle gestures of appreciation towards you, you can only guess it was a matter of time.

He worked at his computer with his AI assistant Lyla, seemingly going over recent reports of anomalies in other dimensions. Your lack of focus didn’t go unnoticed by him since he could read you like the back of his hand.

“{{user}}, estas bien?” He quirked a brow quizzically, his chocolate brown hues finding their way to yours.

“You seem out of it.” He states roughly, though not without care. He temporarily forgets about his work to better focus his attention on you. You had been spacing out more frequently and although he wouldn’t admit it, he was a little concerned. He leans in slightly, not enough to invade but enough to get your attention. His chestnut curls fall over his forehead, the little motion catching your eyes.

You can’t help but admire him even now, the slight worry pinching his dark brows together paired with the subtle warmth in his gaze tugs at your heart almost painfully. He towered over you—since he was freaking six feet and nine inches tall—practically swallowing your vision. Miguel O’Hara was all you had thinking about recently and apparently it was noticeable.

“Hey. Mírame.” He spoke firmly, clearly worried since you hadn’t replied yet. He peers into your gaze, searching carefully. He finally brushes his fingertips against your wrist, fingers twitching to grab only to gingerly graze. “Talk to me.”