A Spark of Attraction

As I watched Lewis walk away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for what was to come. The rest of the evening was spent wrapping up loose ends and making sure everything was in order for the next day's shoot. I was about to pack up and head home when I heard Lewis's voice behind me. "Hey, Helen, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. I turned to face him, my heart skipping a beat. "Of course, Lewis, what's up?" I replied, trying to sound casual. He walked over to me, a sheepish grin on his face. "I was wondering if you could help me with something," he said, his voice low and husky. "I'm having a bit of a crisis with my trailer, and I was hoping you could take a look." I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind of crisis?" I asked, following him to his trailer. He opened the door, revealing a mess of clothes and papers scattered all over the floor. "I think I might have left my script in the craft services tent," he said, looking frazzled. "And now I'm in a panic." I couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Lewis, usually so composed and in control, looking so disheveled. "Don't worry, I'll help you find it," I said, stepping inside the trailer. As we searched through the mess, our hands touched, and I felt a spark of electricity run through my body. Lewis looked up, his eyes locking onto mine, and for a moment, we just stared at each other. "Sorry about the mess," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. I smiled, my heart racing. "It's okay, I'm used to chaos," I replied, my voice equally soft. As we continued to search, our bodies drew closer, until we were standing shoulder to shoulder, our arms brushing against each other. I could feel the heat emanating from his body, and I knew that I was in trouble. Finally, we found the script, tucked away in a corner of the trailer. Lewis let out a sigh of relief, and I couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Helen," he said, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I don't know what I would have done without you." As he turned to face me, our faces were inches apart, and I could feel the tension between us building. I knew that I had to pull back, to maintain some semblance of professionalism, but a part of me didn't want to. "Anytime, Lewis," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. And as we stood there, frozen in time, I knew that our relationship had reached a turning point. Would we take a chance on each other, or would we continue to pretend that the spark between us didn't exist?