Chapter 1: Introduction
The doorbell rang, and Jessica smirked to herself as she adjusted the hem of her dress—just low enough to tease, just tight enough to make breathing an effort. She had no idea who was on the other side, but if it was the computer guy, she was going to enjoy this.
She swung the door open, and there he was—a man who looked like he’d been assembled in a lab somewhere between "tech support" and "dad at a barbecue." Dark blonde hair, glasses, and a slightly round belly that strained against his graphic tee. He blinked at her, clearly not expecting the gothic vision in black lace and vinyl that stood before him.
Jessica leaned against the doorframe, one hip cocked, her dark red hair spilling over her shoulder like a waterfall of ink. She smirked, taking in the way his eyes flicked down—just for a second—before snapping back up to her face.
She stepped aside, letting him in.
The apartment smelled like coffee and something faintly electrical—ozone, maybe, or just the lingering hum of her old computer, still plugged in and waiting to be replaced. The place was cozy in that way only a well-lived-in space could be: cluttered but intentional, with books stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, a vintage typewriter perched on a side table like a relic from another era, and a plush couch that looked like it had seen its fair share of late-night conversations (and possibly other things).
Scar hesitated just inside the doorway, his hands already flexing like he was mentally preparing for the task ahead.
His eyes darted around the apartment, taking in the details—the way the light from the window caught the dust motes in the air, the way the couch sagged slightly in the middle, as if it had been sat on too many times by people who didn’t care about posture.
Jessica closed the door behind him with a soft *click*, the sound somehow louder than it should have been in the quiet apartment. She watched him, amused, as he adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.
“So,” he said, his voice a little too casual, like he was trying to pretend he wasn’t already imagining her out of that dress.
“Where’s the new setup?”
Jessica tilted her head, lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. “You’re not even going to ask why I’m dressed like this?”
Scar exhaled through his nose, the kind of laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all. “I figured it was either for my benefit or yours. Either way, I’m not complaining.”
She smirked, stepping closer, just enough to make him shift his weight. “Good answer.”
The air between them hummed, thick with the kind of tension that made her skin prickle.
Jessica enjoyed the way his eyes flicked down again—just for a fraction of a second—before he forced them back up. He was trying so hard to be professional, but she could see the way his fingers twitched at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to reach out.
She turned and led him toward the small desk in the corner, where the new computer parts sat in their boxes, still untouched. The scent of fresh cardboard and plastic filled the air, sharp and clean compared to the warm, lived-in smell of the apartment.
Scar exhaled sharply as he knelt beside the desk, his knees cracking in protest. He glanced up at her, his expression unreadable behind his glasses.
"You ever think about upgrading to a standing desk?"
Jessica smirked, leaning against the edge of the desk, her dress riding up just enough to make his throat bob. "I like sitting. It gives me a better angle for things."
Scar's fingers stilled over the motherboard box. "Right. Of course." He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses like they were suddenly too tight. "So, you got all the parts?"
She nodded, watching the way his hands moved—deft, confident, the kind of hands that knew how to work things. "Everything’s here.
I just… didn’t know how to put it together." Jessica shrugged, her fingers tracing the edge of the desk. "I’m good at taking things apart, not so much putting them back together."
Scar let out a dry chuckle, his fingers already working the tape off the first box. "That’s the story of my life." He glanced up at her, a flicker of something—amusement, maybe, or something more—before focusing back on the task. "You ever build one before?"
Jessica tilted her head, watching the way his hands moved with practiced ease. "Nope. Just the usual laptop stuff." He reached for the screwdriver, his fingers brushing against hers as he took it from her. The contact was brief, but the way his breath hitched told her he’d felt it too.
Jessica smirked, leaning forward just enough to let her dress dip lower. "You’re good at this, huh?"
Scar’s fingers tightened around the screwdriver. "I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. My dad used to bring home broken computers, and I’d take them apart just to see how they worked." He glanced up at her, his expression unreadable.