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"Cut!" someone somewhere yells.
There are more raised voices behind her, indistinguishable between the hammering of the rain, the thumping of her heart and the cold drawing into her very bones. It doesn't matter she knows why they had to cut. Again. Closing her eyes, she takes another shuddering breath, feeling large drops roll from her lashes to splash on her cheeks. She shivers. Her lip quivers.
"Alright, let's break for five!" someone somewhere yells.
An intense pressure is lifted from her chest and for a moment she can breathe easy again, not having to worry about the fumbling of lines in the mud and the rain, and the mud… And the rain. Soon it is replaced with another wash of guilt about why they have to break. She bites her lip, so cold and numb she barely feels it. Pull yourself together, Gillian. Her chin wobbles but it's only from the cold.
Barely aware of the sensation of the ground passing beneath her, she trudges away from the din of voices until they are only a muffle in the far distance. Beneath a tree she stands and looks out, sheltered from most of the lashes of rain and the darkness of the night sky. Hugging her arms around her midriff in a futile effort to retain some warmth, she looks up to the dark clouds above, imagining the faint light of the stars behind millions of light years away. Gillian meditates on the thought, allowing the calm quiet in, and pushing away the voices of inadequacy vying to be heard in her head. Her eyes grow heavy, and there's no harm in resting them for now she reasons.
She doesn't hear him approach, but she smells his sweat and aftershave and the mint of recently chewed gum when he steps into her space. Eyes still closed she holds herself back from falling into the headiness of that familiarity. She has already allowed herself too much discretion with her coworker, far more than is professional. Yet she can't help but smile when he tucks a wet strand of her hair behind the cool she'll of her ear, murmuring, "Hey," the same way he did the night before. "They want us back on soon; I thought I'd come give you heads up."
She looks up at him and his endearing grin, and turns her head away, as if looking to the side will make him disappear and her growing dilemma along with him. Christ , she never makes things easy for herself. "Thank you," she manages.
"You okay?" Just enough upturn in his tone to make the query casually genuine.
"Yeah." She holds her head high. "Yeah just… It's nothing."
"Doesn't sound like nothing."
The tip of his finger grazes her chin and his voice hooks her, pulling her gaze back to him. The ease of control she lets him have, he could steer them off the edge and she would follow. No , that isn't fair to herself: she'd wouldn't follow but she would want to.
It scares and thrills her all in one.
"Just the usual: lines I can't seem to remember." She lets go of a mirthless laugh, shaking her head. "And it's so fucking cold. Seriously, whose idea was this?" That earns her a laugh. "I can't even make my lips move if I could remember what I'm supposed to say."
"You're doing good. It's just a silly little shoot for a cheesy science fiction thing that no one will see. You've got better things ahead of you yet."
She rolls her eyes childishly, "Only if I can get a usable take in."
"Well," He cocks his head with a smirk. "I might know a little remedy to help warm your lips."
Gillian raises her eyebrows. "Oh, what's that?" testing the boundaries of her flirtation. She knows he has a girlfriend somewhere back in the States but she can't bring herself to care.
The finger still on her chin draws a line up her jaw and his palm comes to rest, cupping her jaw. He moves fluidly, his breath hot, ghosting her lips before landing smoothly. Closer she finds herself walking to the edge. He skates his tongue across her bottom lip but before she can reciprocate, he pulls away with a devilish smile. "Come on, they want us back on, remember?"
"You fucker, Duchovny," she mutters.
He chuckles as they walk back through the rain and the mud together.