POV: Lily Navarro

By Wednesday, Lily had completely run out of neutral expressions.

She didn’t mean to react to everything. She really didn’t. But between Freya’s whispered running commentary, Lena’s knowing smirks, and Santi’s very deliberate habit of appearing beside her desk every three hours, Lily was starting to feel like the unwilling protagonist of a telenovela she didn’t audition for.

Worse? Matteo was watching.

Not obviously. Never directly. But… watching.

The quiet glances across his screen. The shift in his posture whenever Santi laughed at one of Lily’s jokes. The way his pencil tapped faster than usual whenever Santi leaned just a little too close to her sketchpad.

It was maddening.

And just a little bit addicting.

It all escalated on Thursday.

The team was prepping for a pitch meeting—a new short-form animated series for a client in France. The project was still in concept phase, but Julian wanted everyone to contribute ideas. Matteo had already turned in three pages of sleek visual samples. Santi, of course, offered some gorgeous concept art with a dramatic theme.

Lily, meanwhile, had been refining character interactions through storybeats. Quiet emotions. Little looks. Hand gestures. The kind of stuff that got buried under action scenes but carried the soul of the story.

Julian clapped his hands after they pinned everything to the project board.

“Alright, team,” he said. “You’re all brilliant. I love this direction. I’d like Lily and Matteo to collaborate on stitching these beats together into a rough visual reel.”

Lily blinked. “Me and… Matteo?”

Julian nodded. “Matteo’s visuals, Lily’s timing. It’s a great match.”

Santi raised a brow from his seat. “Oof. Intense combo.”

Freya whispered, “You’re gonna die,” and Lena chuckled under her breath.

Lily looked at Matteo.

He didn’t react.

Just said, flatly, “Fine.”

They met later that afternoon in one of the smaller meeting rooms—a cozy, plant-filled space with a whiteboard, couch, and a whole wall made of cork and pushpins.

Matteo sat down, laptop open, tablet ready.

Lily took the other chair.

“So…” she began, hesitantly. “I was thinking the transitions between your panels could feel more… breathy? Like let the silence speak before the action.”

He looked at her.

Not blinkingly. Not unkindly.

Just... looked.

“You don’t like how I staged them,” he said.

“No! No, I—” She paused. “I like them. They’re clean. They’re strong. But they’re... cold.”

His jaw flexed.

She winced. “I don’t mean bad cold. I mean like... emotionally neat.”

“I was going for restraint.”

“Well,” she said carefully, “I think the story needs mess.”

That caught his attention.

He tilted his head. “Mess?”

Lily smiled faintly. “Characters who linger too long in a doorway. Who almost touch hands but don’t. The quiet seconds where nothing happens—except everything is happening.”

Matteo stared at her for a moment longer. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded.

“Okay,” he murmured. “Show me.”

She blinked. “Really?”

He angled his tablet toward her. “I want to see what that kind of silence looks like to you.”

Something in her chest fluttered.

And for the next twenty minutes, they worked.

Not in perfect harmony—God, no. He still furrowed his brows when she adjusted angles. She still huffed when he insisted a shot was “cleaner” his way. But they talked. Debated. Agreed. Argued again. Laughed once—just once—when they accidentally mimicked each other’s grumpy sighs.

By the end, there was a rhythm.

A strange, unspoken thread running between them.

Until the door opened.

Santi leaned in. “Sorry—didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Lily looked up, a little dazed. “It’s fine.”

“Julian’s asking for input files. I thought I’d grab yours too,” he said, looking at Matteo.

Matteo didn’t speak. Just turned his laptop slightly and tapped his files into the shared folder.

Santi walked in, casually glancing at the sketches they’d pinned to the board. “This looks great. You two work well together.”

Matteo remained quiet.

Lily smiled politely. “Thanks. We’re still refining the beats.”

“Still,” Santi said. “It’s impressive.”

He looked at Lily then—just long enough for Matteo to notice.

“You free later?” Santi asked. “Some of us are grabbing drinks after work. Thought I’d extend the invite.”

Lily hesitated. “I’m not really a… drinks person.”

“There’s hot chocolate too,” Santi said, grinning.

She smiled. “Tempting.”

“I’ll text you,” he said.

Then he left.

And the room went quiet again.

Lily turned back to Matteo, who hadn’t moved.

“I didn’t say yes,” she said, softly.

“I didn’t ask,” he replied.

She stared at him.

He stared back.

Then he picked up his pen again.

And said, voice quieter now, “You were right about the hands. The ‘almost touch’ moment. Keep it.”

She blinked. “Oh. Okay.”

And in that one line—just five words—she realized he had been listening.

To her.

To everything.

Even when he pretended not to.