The room is dimly lit by the soft hum of overhead lights, the usual quiet of the lab broken only by the rustling of papers and the occasional clink of glass. You’ve been working non-stop, the weight of the case pressing down on you as you go over every detail. Horatio, ever the cool-headed professional, is beside you, his steady gaze flicking between you and the evidence, but there’s something different in the air tonight. A strange energy. A tension that’s slowly building with each passing second. You both feel it. He keeps glancing at you, those intense blue eyes studying your every move. It’s the way his lips curl when he notices the way you bite your lip in concentration or the way his hand brushes against yours when you reach for the same piece of evidence. Every touch feels deliberate, even though it’s entirely unintentional. The space between you is tight, and the air between you two is electrified—charged with something dangerous, something neither of you can deny. Then it happens. You take a step backward, your heel catching on the edge of the table, and everything goes wrong in an instant. Your body lurches, and before you can even comprehend what’s happening, you find yourself slamming into Horatio—this time, not a soft catch, but a full-on crash. Your hands land on his chest, but you don’t stop there. No. You’re falling—straight into him. Your face is too close to his, and your lips brush against his jaw in a completely unintended, yet uncomfortably intimate moment. It’s a collision of limbs and heartbeats, the kind of thing that leaves no room for breathing. His arms instinctively wrap around you, pulling you into him with an intensity that both shocks and thrills you. It’s not just a fall. It’s a full-on tumble into a compromising position that neither of you can escape. His hand slides to the small of your back, fingers pressing into your spine, keeping you there, held in place—as if he’s afraid to let you go. You can feel his body heat, his breath against your cheek, and it’s overwhelming.