Rain smacked the windows of the studio like applause from a restless crowd.
Lena stood barefoot, drenched from running through the storm-no umbrella, no plan. just adrenaline and the sound of her voice still echoing through the playback speakers.
Julian stared at her like she'd just shattered the glass between them.
"You weren't supposed to hear that track," she said, breathless.
"You weren't supposed to hide it," he answered, stepping closer.
They stood chest to chest, thunder rumbling behind them.
"You write heartbreak like you've lived it," he said.
"I haven't," she whispered, "not completely."
His hand brushed her jaw, his voice low. "Then what are we doing?"
She didn't kiss him. Not yet.
But her silence this time... it wasn't fear. it was permission.