(Ruby POV)
The first script read-through was supposed to be simple.
Read. Adjust. Leave.
That's what Ruby told herself as she walked into the studio.
It was not simple.
Not even close.
Because the moment she stepped inside, she saw him.
Adrian Blake.
Leaning back in his chair like he had been there long before anyone else mattered.
Of course.
Ruby stopped walking.
Adrian looked up at the exact same time.
A pause.
Then, like it was the most normal thing in the world—
"Well," he said, "you showed up."
Ruby crossed her arms immediately.
"I didn't come for you."
"I didn't ask."
That made her glare sharper.
"Good."
A beat.
Then Adrian tilted his head slightly.
"…You look tired."
Ruby blinked once.
Then scoffed.
"I didn't ask for your opinion either."
He nodded slowly.
"Noted."
And just like that, he looked away.
Like she was already unimportant again.
That should've been satisfying.
It wasn't.
---
The table read began.
The director spoke. Pages shuffled. Chairs adjusted.
Ruby tried to focus.
Tried.
But the problem was—
Adrian read differently than everyone else.
Not louder.
Not dramatic.
Controlled.
Like every word had weight even when it didn't.
And worse—
he didn't look at her while he did it.
Not even once.
---
Scene 7.
Argument scene.
Enemies.
Of course.
Ruby rolled her shoulders slightly and stepped into position.
"Action."
The room shifted.
She spoke her line first.
Sharp.
Clean.
Perfect.
Adrian responded instantly.
Equally sharp.
Equally controlled.
It should've felt like acting.
But something in the air kept pulling it away from that.
Like the script was just an excuse.
Not the reason.
---
"Your character doesn't trust mine," Ruby said, reading her line.
Adrian didn't look down.
"I don't trust anyone."
A pause.
Then Ruby frowned slightly.
"That's not in the line."
"It is," he replied calmly.
"It's not."
Now he finally looked at her.
Just briefly.
Then—
"It is in how I say it."
That landed differently.
Too differently.
Ruby held his gaze longer than necessary.
Then forced herself to look back at the script.
"Stick to the page," she said.
"I am."
But he wasn't.
And she knew it.
---
The director called for a reset.
Pages shuffled again.
Positions adjusted.
Ruby stepped back slightly—
And didn't notice the cable behind her foot.
Until she did.
Too late.
Her balance shifted.
Quick.
Unexpected.
And before she could even catch herself—
a hand caught her wrist.
Firm.
Immediate.
Adrian.
Time didn't stop.
But it slowed.
Just enough for her to realize—
he was closer than he had been all day.
Too close.
"Careful," he said quietly.
Ruby froze for half a second.
Then pulled her hand back instantly.
"I had it."
Adrian didn't move.
"You didn't."
That should've been the end of it.
It wasn't.
Because for a second too long—
his hand had stayed there.
On her wrist.
And neither of them said anything about it.
---
"Okay," the director finally said, slightly awkward, "let's continue."
Ruby turned away first.
Fast.
Too fast.
Like distance could erase what just happened.
But she still felt it.
The pressure of his hand.
The calm in his voice.
And the fact that—
Adrian Blake had reacted before she even asked.
---
She didn't look at him for the rest of the read-through.
But she could feel it.
Not his eyes.
Not his attention.
Something worse.
Awareness.
Like he had noticed something he shouldn't have.
And now neither of them could pretend he hadn't.