Track Eight
The private session wasn't supposed to happen.
It slipped into existence the way everything between you and Daniela always did: unplanned, unsupervised, and quietly dangerous.
You're already there when she walks in. No girls. No one is hovering. Just her, dressed down, hair pulled back, eyes sharper than usual, like she already knows something is going to break.
The door shuts behind her.
The click sounds louder than it should.
"Just us?" she asks, even though she knows the answer.
"Just us," you say.
You don't start the session right away. No music. No small talk. You lean against the console, arms crossed, trying to ground yourself in routine. Daniela watches you the entire time, like she's memorizing a pattern of actions you do.
"You've been different," she says finally.
You exhale through your nose. "You already know that."
"I know you're pulling away," she says. "But I cant figure out why if you're not letting me in.
"Silence stretches. The kind that presses in on your chest."You don't make it easy," you say.Her brows knit together. "Neither do you."
That almost makes you laugh — sharp, humorless. You turn to face her fully now, control slipping in small, invisible ways."I don't do this," you admit. "Not when it matters."Her voice softens. "Do what?"
"Let people see me hesitate," you say. "Let them know I care before I'm sure it won't destroy me."Daniela steps closer. Not touching. Just close enough that you can feel the heat of her presence."And what if I already see it?" she asks. "What if I've seen it the whole time?"Your jaw tightens.
Hating that she's making you realize the reality of what's been happening between you two.
"You scare me," you say quietly. The words feel dangerous once spoken.
"Because I don't know how to want you without losing myself in it.
.. I've come too far to let that happen to me again.
"Her breath catches — just a little."I don't need you to be fearless," she says. "I just need you to be honest.
"You look at her then. Really look.
The late nights.
The texts.
The way you backed off was because staying felt like standing too close to a flame.
"I think about you more than I should," you admit.
"I replay conversations...even the little ones.
I wonder what you're thinking. And every time I tell myself to stop, I just cant.
" The space between you collapses. Daniela's hand lifts, wanting to touch you somehow to let you know she's listening and she's here.
But it hesitates in the air like she's giving you the choice.
"Then don't stop."
That's it.
That's the moment control finally gives way.
You move first, not rushed, not rough — but undeniable. Your hand cups her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek like you're grounding yourself through her. She inhales sharply, fingers gripping your shirt as if she's been holding herself back this entire time.
The kiss isn't gentle.
It's the feeling of restraint breaking all at once.
Her lips part immediately, meeting yours with hunger that matches the tension you've been pretending not to feel. You kiss her like you're afraid that if you stop, you'll think too much again.
She presses closer. You back her up until she's against the console, hands everywhere they can be without crossing lines; her waist, neck, — desperate but still aware.
She pulls back just enough to breathe. "You don't get to disappear after this."
Your forehead rests against hers. Your voice is rough. "I know." She kisses you again, slower this time. Deeper. Like she's claiming the moment, committing it to memory in case you try to retreat later.
Your control is gone — not recklessly, but completely.
And for the first time, you don't fight it.
When you finally pull away, breathless, foreheads still touching, the room feels different. Charged. Changed.
Nothing is resolved. But nothing is hidden anymore either. And that might be the most dangerous part of all.
The kiss doesn't undo itself when the session ends.
It lingers in the way Daniela stays a second longer than she needs to, fingers brushing the edge of the console and playing with the loop of your jeans to ground herself.
It stays in the way you don't immediately step back into your producer posture, either.
You're playing with one of the many rings on her fingers, to help with the nervousness you feel all over right now.
You're both breathing slower now, hopefully not panicked, not regretful.
Just aware.
You clear your throat, reaching for your headphones, the movement casual but not dismissive. "We should probably actually work," you say.
Daniela gives a small smile, knowing. "Yeah. We should."
And somehow, it doesn't feel like a retreat.
The session flows more easily than it has in days. You give notes the way you always do, but your voice carries warmth again. Not guarded. Not distant. When Daniela sings, you let it play longer before stopping her, eyes lifting to meet hers through the glass. She holds your gaze without flinching.
Neither of you brings up the kiss.
You don't need to.
By the time the rest of the group joins later that afternoon, the shift is subtle, invisible if you're not looking for it. But it's there.
Megan notices first, because she always does.
"You're in a better mood," she says to Daniela under her breath while they prepare. "Whatever that means."
Daniela shrugs, tying her hair back. "Am I?"
"Yeah," Lara adds. "You're actually focused today."
Sophia glances between you and Daniela across the room, eyebrow lifting slightly when she catches the way you nod at Daniela — a quiet acknowledgment that didn't exist before.
Manon leans toward Yoonchae. "Something happened." Yoonchae hums. "I think so too."
But no one pushes. They don't know what you two have going on, but they felt tension since that party where you two talked.
The tension isn't sharp enough to cut the air, no obvious boundary crossed.
..well, to the girls. Just ease. Familiarity.
Like two people who finally stopped pretending they weren't orbiting each other.
Later, during a break, Daniela finds you by the window. Not too close. Not far either.
"You okay?" she asks. You glance at her, lips tugging into something real. "Yeah. You?" She nods. "Yeah." A beat passes.
She lowers her voice. "We're... good?"You meet her eyes, steady this time. "We're good."It's not a promise. Not a label. But it's honest.
Right when you're both about to leave separately, you stop her.
"Hey do you wanna come to mines a little later just to maybe talk more?, if you don't that's obviously fine". The nervousness still lingering in the back of your mind. "Yeah, of course, sounds like a good idea," she responds.
So, you send her your address and let her know she can come at whatever time works for her. Knowing whatever this is, it isn't crashing or pulling away. It's settling into place.
And everyone can feel it.