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The disappointment was staggering. Luke was finally ready, the ties of his previous relationship severed. He never expected her to wait for him—that would be foolish—but he had hoped. Hope kept him going all through the tour. His life was messy, but he didn’t have the mindset to fix it then. It wasn’t until he was no longer seeing her every day that he realized he needed to clean things up. It took some months, some experimenting to see if this was what he really wanted, what he needed, but he did it.
His excitement to see her again for the new season grew every day. He wanted to get into character again, play the happy husband, play the happy father, and he would get to do all those things with her.
They were a team, they always had been. Sometimes it felt like she was his other half, especially while on set. They understood each other on a level no one else did. She was his comfort person and he knew he was hers too. It made pride soar through him at the thought.
But now there was someone else.
He knew before they got back to set, having seen photographs, having talked to her on the phone a bit about him.
It didn’t stop the aching disappointment from forming deep in his chest, furling and fighting to break free from his throat.
He swallowed the feeling down, smiled, and tried his best to be supportive. Like she always had been for him.
Once filming started, at some point it got too hard.
The pull between them was too strong. They gravitated towards each other as they always did. Little touches here and there, her shoulder brushing his arms, his fingers grazing her hand, searching for her warmth, but pulling away before he could fully grasp it.
Their kissing and love scenes felt like torture.
He wanted more, so much more.
One day while filming a big group scene, their eyes locked across the room. The small tilt of her head was all the confirmation he needed to dart out of the room, knowing she would be hot on his tails.
They ended up in his trailer, on the couch. The space was quiet, comfortable, but Luke was buzzing. His fingers twitched on his thighs and then his arms were reaching, pulling her to him.
She went willingly, as if she couldn’t resist him either. They curled up together as best they could in their costumes, hyper aware to not muss anything for fear of the costume department getting annoyed with them. He felt like his bones were melting, with her finally pressed against him as themselves again. Sure, they were dressed as their characters, but he didn’t have to hide behind his lines anymore. He was holding her as Luke, and he knew she could tell the difference.
This time when they walked back to set, he reached for her hand and she took it. It wasn’t until they were surrounded by people again that she dropped it. He tried not to think about how much his heart hurt when his skin no longer touched hers.
From that day on, he sought out her touch as much as he could, pride swelling within him every time she gave in. She wanted his touch, even though she shouldn’t.
It all came to a head one night when he knocked on her trailer door. He was back in his sweats, his cap on his head, hands shoved deep into his pockets. She pulled open the door, looking as if she was expecting it to be him, and he followed her inside. He watched from the couch as she applied her face cream, his fingers fidgeting with the ring on his thumb. When she screwed the cap on the product, she turned to him, walking slowly, almost as if she was hesitating.
The string between them was strong, pulling taught, dragging them further and further into each other.
She settled beside him, curling into his side, her head on his chest. His arms settled around her shoulders, hugging her close, his nose brushing her hair, damp from her shower. It took a few minutes for them to both fully relax, to let their natural comfortability with each other take hold.
They ended up lying down, her body on top of his, their faces a mere inch from each other. Her hand was resting upon his neck, her thumb brushing back and forth over his jaw. The hand on her back was swiping gently up and down slowly until it paused at the swell of her ass. His fingers brushed the plushness there, his eyes staring deep into hers, asking for silent permission.
When she didn’t offer a protest, he cupped her fully, pulling her impossibly closer, holding her bottom. Her knee slid up so her leg was hooked over his lower abdomen.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.
His heart cracked even though his brain agreed with her. “I know.”
“This isn’t fair to me,” she continued, her thumb now tracing his bottom lip, her gaze momentarily drawn there, causing his heartbeat to stutter.
“I’m sorry.”
And he was. He was sorry for a lot of things. She seemed to understand, her head nodding slowly.
“Me too.”
She had nothing to apologise for, but that was just who she was. She knew she was hurting him, even though he had no right to be hurt.
His head tilted down daringly and he could have cried when he felt her face draw closer as well. Their lips were touching, but neither moved in further.
“I don’t want to give you up,” she breathed out, her eyes closing. “I can’t.”
“Then don’t.”
Her eyes opened again slowly, taking him in, and then… and then…
He felt the drag of her lips over his nose before they pressed tenderly against his forehead. He felt like the string between them was beginning to unravel and it broke him. This was the final nail, the first stepping stone placed down to lay the groundwork for them to go their separate ways.
They couldn’t continue on like this forever. He knew it. He had known it all along.
But that didn’t stop the pain from seeping deep into his bones, making him feel like she was miles away even though she was as close as she could ever be.
And maybe that’s what hurt the most.
This was as close as he was going to get with her.