He could feel her breath on his neck, warm and slightly uneven, as she leaned over him to grab the remote from the coffee table. The room was dimly lit by the flickering light of the TV, casting shadows that danced across her face. She was just close enough that he could smell the faint scent of her perfume, something floral and sweet, mingling with the earthy aroma of their shared living space.

"Can you believe this movie?" she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear as she spoke. Her voice was low, almost a purr, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the conversation rather than the way her body was pressed against his. "I don't know," he managed to say, his voice sounding unsteady even to his own ears. "It's kinda cheesy, but I think that's why we like it."

She laughed softly, a sound that made his heart race. "Yeah, cheesy is totally our thing," she agreed, finally pulling back to sit next to him on the couch. The sudden loss of contact was almost painful, and he found himself missing the warmth of her body against his.

The movie continued to play in the background, but neither of them seemed particularly interested in it anymore. They sat in silence for a few moments, the tension between them palpable. He could feel the weight of her gaze on him, and when he finally looked at her, their eyes met.

For a moment, it was as if time had stopped. Her green eyes were wide and filled with something he couldn't quite name, but it made his stomach flip nervously. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but before he could form the words, she leaned in closer, her lips parted slightly.

He froze, his brain scrambling for a response. This was it—this was the moment he had been both dreading and longing for since they had moved in together. His mind raced through the possibilities: should he kiss her? Should he pull away? What would happen if he did nothing at all?

Before he could make a decision, she hesitated, her eyes flicking to his lips and then back to his eyes. For a split second, he thought she might actually go through with it, but then she pulled back, sitting up straight and giving him a shaky smile.

"Sorry," she said quickly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to... I don't know what I was thinking."

He felt a pang of disappointment, though he wasn't entirely sure why. "It's okay," he replied, forcing a casual tone. "We're friends, right? No big deal."

But inside, he was anything but calm. The near-miss had left him rattled, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between them. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noting how her fingers absentmindedly twisted a strand of hair around her finger. She seemed just as uneasy as he was.

"So," she said after a moment, breaking the silence. "Do you want to order pizza or something? I'm starving."

He nodded, grateful for the change of topic. "Sure, pizza sounds great. What do you feel like getting?"

As they debated the merits of various toppings, he couldn't help but steal glances at her. Every time their hands brushed while scrolling through the options on their phones, an electric current seemed to flow between them, sparking memories of other, similar encounters that had left them both frustrated and yearning for something more.

Once, she had slipped in the shower and nearly knocked him down trying to steady herself. Another time, they had ended up tangled together on the floor after a particularly intense round of video games. Each time, they had come so close to crossing the line, only to pull back at the last possible moment.

And now, here they were again, teetering on the edge of something unknown. He knew that one wrong move, one poorly timed word, could tip the balance and change everything between them forever. But the uncertainty, the constant proximity and the simmering sexual tension, were driving him crazy.

When the doorbell rang to signal the arrival of their pizza, he practically jumped up from the couch, eager for an excuse to break the charged atmosphere. He hurried to the door, fumbling with his wallet as he paid the delivery guy. As he turned back to the living room, he noticed that she had stood up too, her movements tense and deliberate.

"Here," he said, handing her a slice as he returned to the couch. "Dig in."

She took the pizza with a murmured thanks, but instead of sitting down, she remained standing, her eyes fixed on him. He could see the conflict playing out behind her gaze, the internal struggle between desire and fear.

Finally, she took a step closer, her hand reaching out to trace the edge of the pizza box. "Do you ever wonder what would happen if we just gave in to this?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He sucked in a breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "Every day," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "But I don't know if either of us is ready for that."

She nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. "Maybe not," she agreed. "But it doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

He shook his head, unable to find the words to express just how difficult it was to maintain the status quo. The temptation was always there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for one of them to falter.

Without warning, she stepped forward, closing the distance between them until they were barely an inch apart. Her eyes dropped to his lips, and for a moment, he thought she might kiss him after all. But then, with agonizing slowness, she leaned in and pressed her forehead against his, her breath warm against his skin.

"This isn’t easy for me either," she whispered, her voice trembling. "But maybe someday..."

He closed his eyes, savouring the closeness, the intimacy of the moment. "Maybe someday," he echoed, his voice just as soft.

Then, as suddenly as she had approached, she pulled back, breaking the connection. The absence of her warmth made him feel cold, and exposed.

"I should probably go to bed," she said, her tone brisk as she turned away. "Early day tomorrow."

He watched her walk towards the hallway, every step echoing in the quiet room. "Goodnight," he called after her, his voice tinged with regret.

"Goodnight," she replied, not looking back.

As he heard her bedroom door click shut, he slumped back onto the couch, staring blankly at the pizza slice in his hand. The food had gone cold, but he barely noticed. All he could think about was the lingering heat of her touch, the promise of what could have been.

He knew that the next time they found themselves in such a situation, the stakes would be even higher. One of them would have to make a choice, and soon. The question was, who would it be?