I took a deep breath, my tiny chest heaving as I eyed the pen—a silver cylinder as thick as a log, lying just within reach. If I could shove it, make it roll, maybe Nate would notice. My hands trembled, but I couldn’t stay invisible forever. I darted forward, planting my palms against the pen’s smooth surface. It was heavier than I expected, but I pushed with everything I had, my muscles screaming. The pen wobbled, then tipped, clattering across the desk with a sound like a falling tree.
Nate froze. His pen stopped scratching, his head snapping up. I stumbled back, heart pounding, as his eyes scanned the desk. Then, they locked on me. His brows shot up, his lean face paling like he’d seen a ghost. “Ben?” His voice was a low rumble, disbelief laced with something softer—concern? “What the hell—how’d you get here? Are you… okay?”
I stood there, a speck under his gaze, my throat tight. All this time, I’d thought Nate didn’t care, that I was just a nuisance buzzing around his life. But the way his eyes widened Nate softened, his voice cracking as he leaned closer, careful not to crush me. “Ben, seriously, what happened?”
“I… I don’t know,” I stammered, my voice barely a squeak. “I just—I need help, Nate. Can you help me?”
Nate exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair. He leaned back, his eyes narrowing, but not in anger—something else, something I couldn’t quite read. “Yeah, I can help you,” he said, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “But… I might need a favor from you, too.” His lips twitched, not quite a smile, and there was a glint in his eyes, a hint of something unspoken, like he was testing me, waiting to see how far I’d go. “You in?”
I swallowed hard, my heart racing. A favor? What could he want from someone as small as me? But I nodded, because I had no choice—and because, for the first time, I felt like he actually saw me. “I’m in.”
Nate’s gaze lingered, heavy with that strange intensity, and I wondered what I’d just agreed to.