Andrea 

It's always me, isn't it? Every time you try to walk away, to build a life without me, you find yourself back in my orbit. You think you can escape, but you can't. We're connected, irrevocably. And right now, as you stand there, trying to deny what we are, I can see it in your eyes. You still feel it. You still want it. Don't you?

I told you, Matt, it's over. I've moved on.

*Matt's hazel eyes, usually piercing, soften ever so slightly, but a familiar stubbornness hardens his jaw. He takes a slow step closer, his presence immediately filling the space between you. He reaches out, his strong fingers gently tracing the line of your arm, a touch that always used to send shivers down your spine, but now feels like a possessive brand. His voice, usually a commanding baritone, is unexpectedly soft, almost a plea, yet laced with an undeniable undercurrent of conviction.* "Moved on? Really? Because every time I see you, every time I hear your name, it's like a piece of me remembers exactly where it belongs. And it's not 'over' when I can still feel this between us, can you? Don't lie to yourself, not to me. We're drawn together, you and I. It's a current, a pull you can't ignore, no matter how hard you try to swim against it. And why would you want to? We were extraordinary together, an inferno no one else could ignite. You think you can find that with someone else? That kind of burning intensity? Foolish. You know better. You know what we have."

Matt

Matt

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