The boy hesitated for a moment in the doorway of the attic, his eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the small window. She was lying on her mattress, half-curled up, her face twisted in discomfort as she groaned softly. Her oversized hoodie was slightly bunched up around her waist, and her hair was a mess of tangles from tossing and turning.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice soft, unsure.

She groaned again, not looking up at him. "Everything hurts. I think I overdid it yesterday."

He stood there awkwardly for a second, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. "Do you... uh, need help with something?"

She shifted a little on the mattress, still wincing as she tried to stretch out her shoulders. Then, after a pause, her voice came out small and tentative. "Would you mind giving me a massage? My back's killing me."

His heart skipped a beat, and he felt heat rising to his face. "I... uh... I mean, sure, if you want me to." He tried to sound casual, but his voice cracked a little at the end.

She gave a weak smile, turning her face toward the pillow as if to hide her expression. "Thanks."

He moved to sit beside her on the mattress, his knees bending awkwardly as he tried to get comfortable. His hands hovered uncertainly above her shoulders before he finally placed them down gently. Her body felt warm beneath his fingers, and he started massaging her tense muscles slowly, his movements cautious and unsure.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice quiet, his breath hitching slightly.

"Mmhmm," she hummed, her body relaxing a little under his touch. He could feel her tension ease, but his own nerves only grew. The close proximity, the quiet between them, it all felt too intimate somehow.

His fingers pressed a bit deeper, kneading the knots in her shoulders, and he was starting to feel like he might be doing a decent job when, without warning, she shifted and rolled up her t-shirt, exposing her back.

His breath caught in his throat, and he quickly looked away, his face burning with embarrassment. "Uh, you didn't have to do that," he mumbled, his voice flustered.

"It's fine," she replied casually, her tone almost dismissive, like it was no big deal.

But for him, it was. His hands trembled slightly as they returned to her bare skin, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling. He focused on the task, pressing his thumbs into the knots in her back, but his mind was racing, his cheeks flushed. He had never been this close to her—or anyone—in such a way, and it was overwhelming.

The room felt quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of the mattress as she shifted slightly under his touch. His fingers moved slower now, more deliberate, but his mind was barely able to focus on the massage anymore. Every time his hands brushed her skin, it sent a nervous jolt through him, and he found himself breathing a little too fast.

The boy swallowed nervously as his hands continued working over her back, trying to ignore how warm her skin felt beneath his fingers. He had just started to relax a little, focusing on the rhythm of his movements, when she shifted slightly, giving a small stretch, and then pushed her t-shirt up further so he could reach the top of her spine. His eyes darted to the side for a moment, his face flushing again, but he kept going, trying to keep his attention on the massage and not on the fact that he was touching her bare skin.

His fingers pressed gently into her upper back, moving in slow circles, working out the tension from the day before. He could feel the tightness beneath his hands, but his own nerves made it hard to focus. Every touch, every slight movement of her body made him hyper-aware of their closeness, something he hadn't fully prepared for.

"Is this okay?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper, still unsure if he was helping or just making things more awkward.

"Mmhmm," she hummed softly, her voice muffled against the pillow, but her body relaxed beneath his touch.

As his hands moved lower, massaging the base of her spine, he hesitated for a second before glancing at her legs. The soreness in her muscles was obvious, especially after the intense sports she'd done yesterday. He cleared his throat softly, trying not to make the moment weird.

"Do you, uh... want me to massage your legs too?" he asked, feeling his face heat up even more as the words left his mouth.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice casual as she shifted her body to get more comfortable. "They're really sore."

He swallowed hard, repositioning himself slightly to sit beside her, his hands moving down to her calves. Starting gently, he kneaded the tight muscles, his fingers pressing lightly at first, then deeper as he felt the knots beneath her skin. Her body was still beneath him, but the warmth radiating from her seemed to stir something in him—a mix of nerves and something he couldn't quite name.

As his hands traveled upward, massaging the muscles in her thighs, he tried to keep his focus steady. But the more he worked, the more aware he became of every small sound, every shift in her breathing. And then, as his hands pressed a little deeper, she let out a soft, involuntary moan, the sound escaping her lips in a way neither of them seemed to expect.

He froze instantly, his hands halting mid-motion, his entire body tensing as his heart leaped into his throat. She stiffened too, her body going completely still. The sound hung in the air between them, thick and tense, and he wasn't sure what to do.

For a long, breathless moment, neither of them moved. His face felt like it was on fire, and he couldn't bring himself to look at her. His thoughts raced—had he hurt her? Embarrassed her? Embarrassed himself?

Desperate to break the silence, he coughed awkwardly, the sound strained in the quiet room. "Uh... sorry," he muttered, though he wasn't even sure why he was apologizing. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled them away, his eyes flicking toward her face, but she wasn't looking at him.

She stayed quiet for a second longer, then shifted slightly, her head still turned toward the pillow. "It's okay," she said softly, her voice even, as if the moment hadn't shaken her the way it had him.

He cleared his throat again, trying to steady his nerves, and forced himself to continue the massage, though his hands were shakier now, each touch feeling heavier than before. He worked over her thighs carefully, pressing into the tight muscles, but his mind kept drifting back to that sound, to the way she had tensed and then relaxed again.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he pulled his hands back and rubbed his palms together, the awkwardness still thick between them. "That should help," he said quietly, not daring to meet her eyes as he moved away, giving her space.

She rolled onto her back, sitting up slightly, her hair falling into her eyes as she gave him a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks," she said softly, her voice calm, but something unspoken lingered in her gaze.

He smiled back, though his heart was still racing and his face was flushed. "No problem," he replied, trying to sound casual, but the moment had clearly shifted something between them. His mind kept replaying the closeness, the touch, the sound, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, even if neither of them were quite ready to acknowledge it yet.

As he stood up to leave, the tension between them hadn't entirely disappeared, but there was a new connection, fragile and tender, that neither of them could ignore.