The director cleared his throat stiffly, attempting to dispel the thick awkwardness clinging to the kitchen set. "Alright, everyone! Back to positions! We're taking a medium shot from the side. Sean, Scarlett... focus, please."
But the word 'focus' had long since evaporated from Scarlett's mind. Before her stood Sean, clinging to the remnants of a forced bravado; yet, in her peripheral vision, she could see Julian. Her husband sat calmly in a folding chair behind the monitor, his long legs crossed, staring directly at them with a gaze that could bore holes through stone.
"Action!"
Sean leaned in. His hands, usually so bold, now felt hesitant. As he reached out to brush Scarlett's cheek, she flinched, a micro-movement she couldn't suppress. Every inch of her skin felt scrutinized by those hawk-like eyes watching from the darkness.
"Elen, I can't let you…" Sean began his line, but his voice cracked.
