Bound to You

Bound to You Part 10

June's POV

The night office hummed the way the ocean does when it's holding back a tide.
Most of the staff had gone. Only the motion lab and the glass-walled strategy room still glowed.

June paused at the threshold. Enjoy was inside, barefoot, a blazer thrown over her chair, sleeves of her blouse rolled above the elbows. Her hair, loose for once, caught the backlight from the screen, half shadow, half fire. She was editing a looping sequence of light through water, and the reflection made her skin gleam like the animation had chosen her.

June had come to review metrics. That was the lie she told herself as she stepped inside.

"Still at it?" she asked.

Enjoy didn't turn. "You said the transitions needed to feel less like technology, more like instinct."

"And?"

"I think I found instinct."

June watched her drag the stylus across the screen, movements fluid, confident. "Show me."

The simulation unfolded in waves of gold and blue, pulsing with organic rhythm. It wasn't perfect yet, but it lived.

"You changed the algorithm," June said quietly.

"I changed the mood."

June felt the smile before she meant to. "That's not how analytics work."

"It's how people work," Enjoy countered, glancing up. "You can't quantify what makes them look twice."

Her tone wasn't defiant—it was alive. And June, who spent her life reducing chaos to order, suddenly felt like the one being studied.

The silence between them filled with the sound of rain against the windows.

June stepped closer to the screen, shoulder brushing Enjoy's. She could smell her, something light, sharp, faintly floral. The scent wrapped around the edges of her discipline.

"You wear perfume now," June said softly.

"I've always worn it," Enjoy replied. "You just never stood close enough to notice."

June turned her head. Inches between them. The glow of the monitor painted their faces the same shade of gold.

"Careful," June murmured.

"Why?"

"Because I don't multitask well when I'm distracted."

Enjoy's breath hitched. "What distracts you?"

June looked at her fully then. "You."

It wasn't calculated. It slipped out, unfiltered truth from a woman who never allowed herself any.

Enjoy froze, eyes wide, the air in the room suddenly sharp and bright.

June exhaled, shaking her head as if to reset a switch. "Ignore that. I'm tired."

Enjoy smiled faintly. "You don't look tired. You look—" She stopped, cheeks flushing. "Never mind."

June leaned in, her voice lower. "Finish the sentence."

"I was going to say alive."

The word struck something deep, because it was exactly what June hadn't felt in years

--

The next days blurred into small wars between composure and impulse.

June caught herself studying Enjoy's outfits more than the charts she carried: a cream blouse that dipped just enough to reveal a line of skin at her throat; lipstick that wasn't red but something more dangerous rose in low light.