"Cut! That was perfect!" the director's voice echoed through the room, and I felt like I had just been released from some sort of tension-filled spell.
I could still feel the heat of the scene on my skin, the weight of Zaya's touch, the lingering buzz of our lips barely separated.
My body was still tingling, but I forced myself to sit up, struggling to focus on anything other than the way I felt right now.
I could feel my face burning as I stood, my knees unsteady as I moved away from Zaya, who was already adjusting her suit for the next scene.
Her movements were smooth, graceful, almost like nothing had happened nothing that had made my heart race, nothing that had made my breath catch in my throat.
I wanted to bury myself in the floor, just disappear. The scene had been… too much. Too much.
