Between Us, No Labels

Chapter 5: Closer Than We Should Be

The weekend didn’t give me any relief. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her—the curve of her smile, the sparkle in her eyes, the way her laughter lingered in the air even after it faded. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was completely… addicted.

By Monday, I was already craving her presence, needing it more than I should. And fate… or maybe coincidence, made sure I got it.

She was at the café near the office, headphones on, lost in her own world. But as soon as she looked up and caught my gaze, she smirked. “Clyd,” she teased, “you really don’t know how to leave me alone, huh?”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” I replied, sliding into the seat across from her. Our knees brushed under the table, sending an electric spark through me.

She raised an eyebrow, eyes twinkling. “Bold, aren’t we?”

I smirked. “You bring it out of me.”

For a moment, we just sat there, letting the warmth of the café and the soft hum of conversations around us fade into the background. Every glance, every flick of her hair, every subtle shift in her posture felt magnified.

“Clyd…” she began, voice soft but deliberate, “do you ever think… about us? About what this could be if we stop holding back?”

I leaned forward slightly, letting my fingers brush hers under the table—just barely, teasing, testing. “Every day,” I admitted, voice low. “And every day, I feel the same pull. You… make me feel more than I’ve felt in a long time.”

Her eyes softened, glimmering in the soft café light. “Good… kasi I feel it too. Even if it’s… messy. Even if it’s undefined.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “Then maybe… we should stop pretending we’re just friends.”

Her lips curved into a small, teasing smile, but there was something raw in her gaze. “And if we do… what happens next?”

I let my thumb brush against hers, lingering just long enough for the tension to hum. “Then… we feel everything. Every laugh, every glance, every touch. No holding back.”

Her breath hitched softly, and she leaned just slightly closer. “And… we might get hurt.”

“I don’t care,” I admitted, voice rough, low. “Because I don’t want to stop. Not with you. Not ever.”

She reached across the table, lightly brushing my hand with hers, lingering just enough to make my chest ache. “Clyd…” she whispered, eyes searching mine, “you’re dangerous.”

“And you’re irresistible,” I whispered back.

For a few moments, the world disappeared. The café, the noise, the people—they all faded. There was only her. Only me. Only this fragile, electric connection that had been building between us for days.

She leaned just slightly closer, her shoulder brushing mine, our fingers tangling. Not a kiss. Not yet. Just a promise.

No labels. No promises. Just us.

The sun had started to set, painting the city in shades of orange and pink. Lia and I walked side by side along the quiet streets, the playful teasing from the café lingering between us. Every brush of her arm against mine made my chest tighten, every laugh she let slip sounded like music I wanted to memorize.

“You know,” she said softly, glancing at me, “you really have a way of getting under my skin.”

I smirked. “Is that a complaint or a compliment?”

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made my heart skip. “Maybe both. Pero… I don’t hate it. Not at all.”

Our fingers brushed—accidentally, or maybe not—and the electricity was undeniable. I could feel her warmth, the subtle pressure of her hand against mine. The city around us faded. There was only us.