"Are you two...?"
"Don't worry. We're still together." She smiled slightly in his direction as he told a story to his friends, gesturing wildly with his hands as he spoke. She knew her friend couldn't see her feet comfortably resting upon his lap or that one of his hands dropped down to gently rub the arch of her foot through her feather soft socks every so often.
They started their first reading through their scripts, she with her monologue, he with his spurts of comedic lines. Unable to concentrate on her script for long, just the words and the voices of her theatre family around her, her eyes constantly wandered to his sihlouette. She contently took in the slope of his nose, his perpetually messy hair, the way he always licked his lower lip before he spoke. She'd seen it a thousand times before, but nothing else could ever quite capture her undivided attention like the adorable quirks of his face could.
His crystalline gaze caught hers a few times, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. Her heart always did a little flutter when he did, a warm contentness washing over her, leaving the slightest of a grin on her face. Like she had a secret that no one else knew.
The director ignored them when he kissed her forehead and fingertips during their break.
When she wasn't looking, he watched her as she focused on the script on her lap. Her teeh bit her full bottom lip in concentration, her reading glasses at an odd place on her nose, slightly askew. He fixed them for her, marveling in how precious she was. How lucky he was.
At the end of the night, before they walked out the door into the cold, he pulled her close and innocently pressed his lips to hers for a split second.
"Goodnight, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning." She smiled sweetly at him, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.
"Goodnight, chickadee. You done good, you know. I love you."
"You done good, too, honeybee. I'm proud. I love you too."