𝗩𝗜𝗫𝗘𝗡 | 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗟𝗲𝗲 || ᴀᴍʙᴡ

𝗨𝗦

The morning sun filtered through the windows of the studio as Mark arrived on set, but instead of the usual excitement that buzzed through him, an unexpected wave of nervousness washed over him. He could still feel the remnants of his vivid dream with Visha clinging to him, leaving him a little breathless. As he stepped into the bustling environment, the sound of crew members preparing for the day filled the air, but all he could think about was her.

Mark's stomach churned as he approached the makeup area where Visha was getting ready. Her laughter rang out, rich and melodic, echoing through the room and drawing him in like a moth to a flame. She was sitting in the chair, a makeup artist carefully applying the finishing touches to her look.

"Mark!" she called out, her eyes lighting up as she spotted him. "Glad you could make it!"

"Uh, yeah. Of course," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He could feel the warmth creeping up his cheeks, and he hoped it wasn't too noticeable.

As he approached her, he tried to maintain his composure, but the memories of their dream encounter replayed in his mind, causing his heart to race. "You look... amazing," he managed to say, trying to sound casual.

Visha flashed him a bright smile, her confidence radiating off her like the sun. "Thanks! I'm excited to get started. How about you?"

"Yeah, totally excited," he replied, his voice a little too high-pitched for his liking. He could feel his palms starting to sweat as he leaned against the counter, trying to act relaxed.

"Are you okay? You seem a bit... jittery," she teased, tilting her head slightly as she studied him, a playful glint in her eye.

Mark chuckled nervously, shaking his head. "I'm fine! Just... a lot going on, you know?" He winced internally, wishing he could sound more convincing.

"Right," she said, arching an eyebrow, clearly not buying his excuse. "If you say so."

"Let's just get this day started," he said quickly, eager to change the subject.

As they moved to the set, Mark felt the weight of Visha's gaze on him, her presence both comforting and nerve-wracking. The crew was bustling around them, setting up lights and adjusting cameras, but all he could focus on was the way she moved—so effortlessly, so confidently. He was still grappling with the dream, feeling overwhelmed by the connection that seemed to grow stronger every time he was near her.

During the first few takes, Mark found himself tripping over his lines, fumbling through the choreography as he tried to keep his composure. It was as if his body was rebelling against him, too distracted by Visha's presence to function normally.

"Cut!" the director called, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Mark, can we get a little more focus, please?"

"Sorry, sorry!" he called back, trying to mask the embarrassment flooding his cheeks. He glanced over at Visha, who stood off to the side, her expression a mix of concern and amusement.

After the next round of takes, Visha approached him, her brow furrowed in thought. "Hey, are you sure you're alright? You seem really... off today."

"Yeah, I'm just—" Mark started, but the words caught in his throat. How could he explain that his nerves were rooted in the electric tension between them? "Just trying to get in the zone, I guess."

Visha's eyes softened, and she placed a hand on his arm, the warmth of her touch sending a jolt of energy through him. "You're doing great, Mark. Just remember to breathe and have fun with it. You've got this."

Mark nodded, feeling the warmth of her encouragement wash over him. "Thanks, Visha. I'll try."

As they resumed shooting, he focused on her words, trying to push aside the dream that continued to invade his thoughts. But every time he caught a glimpse of her, the nervousness would creep back in, making it hard to concentrate.

"Action!" the director shouted again, and Mark attempted to channel his anxiety into the performance. But as he turned to face Visha, the way she looked at him—eyes sparkling, smile radiant—made it impossible to ignore the tension lingering in the air.

During a particularly intimate scene, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he leaned in closer to her. The lines blurred, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room. Visha's breath caught slightly, and Mark's pulse quickened at the realization that they were teetering on the edge of something undeniable.

"Cut!" the director shouted again, breaking the moment. Mark stepped back, trying to regain his composure, but he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks.

"Nice work, you two," the director praised, oblivious to the tension between them. "Let's take a quick break before we move to the next scene."

As the crew began to disperse, Mark turned to Visha, his nerves still buzzing. "Sorry if I was... too much today. I just—"

"Mark," Visha interrupted, stepping closer. "You're overthinking it. Just be yourself. I'm here to have fun, and I want you to enjoy this too."

Her words calmed him, and he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Thanks, Visha. I really appreciate that."

"Good," she said with a wink. "Now, let's get back to having some fun. I'll show you my killer dance moves next."

"Dance moves?" Mark laughed, the tension easing slightly. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Visha grinned mischievously, and just like that, the nervousness began to fade, replaced by the thrill of their growing connection. Mark knew that, despite the chaos of the day, there was something magical unfolding between them, and he was ready to embrace it, even if it meant facing his nerves head-on.