her scent -+- miguel ohara -+- ~~~~Complete

11🕸️Unspoken Tensions🕸️

The Spiderbase was quiet when Callisto arrived. The usual buzz of activity was muted, replaced with the soft hum of the flying hexagon beneath her. She leaned back against the cold metal, arms folded as she let her gaze wander over the familiar surroundings. Everything was different now—sharper, more urgent. Even though she was surrounded by people who understood her, there was still a sense of distance. She wasn't sure where she fit in yet. Not here, and definitely not with Miguel.

Miguel was nearby, sitting at a sleek console, his eyes scanning through holographic screens filled with documents. His expression was one of concentration as he flipped through images and files, his brow furrowed with a sense of worry Callisto had come to associate with him. She knew this kind of focus—he was hunting for something. Something important.

He had just told her something strange moments before: "You ruined a Canon event." The words echoed in her mind, but his tone was far too casual to be taken as an accusation. What event? What had she done? She wanted to ask, but she didn't, not yet. There was something about Miguel that made it hard to pry. But she couldn't help herself—those words were lodged in her brain, sticking with her more than anything else that day.

Instead, she stayed silent, her eyes drifting back to the side, unsure of what to do with herself. The hum of the base filled the space between them, thick with unsaid words. She had always kept her distance—always made sure that no one got too close. But something about Miguel felt... different. Too different. It was confusing, and she wasn't sure she wanted to figure it out.

As she sat there, Callisto noticed a shift. Miguel was no longer focused on the documents in front of him. His gaze was now fixed on something else, his eyes softening as he stared at the screen. She looked closer, catching the faint flicker of a video. The sound was off, but she could see enough.

It was him. And a child. His child. His eyes—those usually calculating, guarded eyes—were filled with something softer, warmer. Affection. His gaze lingered on the child in the video, and there was no mistaking the tenderness there. The type of affection that made her feel strange for seeing it. She couldn't help it—her curiosity got the better of her.

"Who's that?" she asked, her voice low, breaking the silence.

Miguel's head snapped up, his eyes darkening slightly. His usual guarded demeanor returned, like a mask settling into place. "None of your business," he replied quickly, his tone tight, but his gaze still lingering on the screen for a moment longer than necessary.

Callisto arched an eyebrow, not satisfied with the answer. "It looked like you were... happy," she said, standing up from her position. Her legs felt a little unsteady, but her curiosity won over the hesitation in her movements.

Miguel's posture stiffened as she approached. "I'm not in the mood for games, Callisto."

Callisto didn't back down. She could feel the tension building, thickening the air between them. She stepped closer, feeling a strange pull towards him, despite the walls she had always built around herself. She wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily.

"Is that your kid?" she pressed, her voice tinged with a little more defiance than she intended.

Miguel's eyes flashed, and for the briefest moment, something dangerous flickered in them. But before she could say anything else, the room seemed to close in on her. In a split second, Miguel was standing in front of her, his body so close that she could feel the heat radiating from him.

"Don't ask questions you're not ready to hear the answers to," he said, his voice low and dangerous, but there was something else there—a challenge, maybe. A warning.

Callisto barely had time to react before his hand was pressed against the wall next to her head, the claws of his suit digging into the metal with a soft, threatening scrape. The movement was fluid, almost too fast for her to register. She found herself pinned—her back against the cold surface of the wall, her breathing shallow as she stared up at him.

Her heart raced, and her stomach flipped. She wasn't scared—not exactly—but there was something about the way he stood there, so close, that sent a rush of heat to her cheeks.

Miguel's face was inches from hers, his breath mingling with hers in the small space between them. His eyes locked onto hers, intense and unwavering.

Her gaze dropped involuntarily to his lips—full, just a shade darker than his skin, slightly parted as if he was about to say something. It felt like everything slowed down, like the world around them disappeared.

Her chest tightened, and she could hear the soft rush of blood in her ears. Her brain screamed for her to move, to push away, but her body refused to listen. Something shifted—an invisible barrier between them weakening by the second.

Miguel's expression softened just a little, though the tension in his posture remained. He didn't pull back, but there was a flicker in his eyes, a fleeting moment of vulnerability. It was gone too quickly to catch.

"Don't ask me questions if you don't want the answers," he repeated, his voice quieter now, like it was meant only for her.

Callisto's breath caught in her throat, and she realized she was holding herself too still. Too tense. But she couldn't move—not yet. Not when she wasn't sure what was happening between them.

But she had a question, one she wasn't ready to ask, even if it burned at the back of her mind.

"Why do you always do that?" she murmured, almost to herself. "Why do you keep pushing, but not really... pushing?"

Miguel's eyes softened just a little more, the tiniest flicker of something in them. His hand on the wall shifted, and for a brief moment, his fingers grazed her skin. He didn't pull away immediately, and she felt the sudden heat of his touch spread up her arm, like an electric current.

"I'm not sure," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But you're not easy to ignore, Callisto."

The room felt even smaller then. The air thick with unspoken words, desires neither of them were ready to acknowledge.

And as Miguel took a step back, releasing her from the wall, the distance between them felt even more unbearable than before.

Her heart was still racing. She could still feel the heat of his presence around her, even though he had stepped away.

"Come on," he said after a moment, his voice returning to its usual tone, though it carried an edge of something different. "Dinner's waiting."

Callisto nodded, still too caught in the moment to say anything. She followed him, her mind spinning, the taste of his touch still lingering in the air between them.

Things were changing. She just wasn't sure if they were changing for better or worse.

Her mind continued to churn over the Canon event he had mentioned. What did he mean? Did she ruin something important? How was she involved in any of this? She had no answers, only more questions.

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