The next day, Nevaeh returned—but something was off.
Mordred saw her the moment she walked in. She was there, in the same space as him, but something was missing.
She didn't shove her way into his conversations.
She didn't make any snarky comments.
She didn't pretend to "accidentally" run into him.
She didn't even look his way.
For the first time in days, she was giving him space. Too much space.
And instead of feeling relieved… he felt restless.
He told himself it was a good thing. This was what he wanted, right?
But as the hours passed, he caught himself watching her from a distance. She was chatting with her colleagues, scrolling through her phone, doing everything but acknowledging his existence.
It was weird.
At one point, he passed by her in the hallway. Normally, she would have smirked, said something to irritate him, or at the very least, given him a knowing glance.
But this time? Nothing.
Not even a flicker of recognition.
She walked right past him like he wasn't even there.
And that's when he realized—
He hated it.
Mordred clenched his jaw, his mood souring. What the hell is she doing?
She had spent days pushing his buttons, making him lose his mind, invading his space like she belonged there. And now, when he had finally adjusted to it… she was ignoring him?
Why?
Had he actually pissed her off?
Mordred found himself tapping his fingers against his knee, eyes narrowing as he watched her from the other side of the room. She was laughing at something on her phone, completely unbothered, as if the past few days had meant nothing.
It was infuriating.
Fine, he thought. If she wants to play this game, I'll play it better.
And with that, Mordred decided—he was going to make her notice him again.
Nevaeh had planned this.
She knew exactly what she was doing when she started ignoring Mordred. After all, she had spent days pestering him, getting under his skin, watching how he reacted to her presence.
So what would happen if she disappeared from his orbit?
Turns out, he didn't like it one bit.
She caught the way his eyes lingered on her when he thought she wasn't looking. The way he kept glancing in her direction, scowling like something was bothering him. The way his fingers tapped against his leg—a nervous habit she hadn't seen before.
He was restless.
And it was deliciously entertaining.
By midday, she decided to put him out of his misery. With a smirk, she sauntered up to him, hands in her pockets, pretending to be casual.
"So, Mordred," she drawled.
He tensed. His gaze snapped to her immediately, like he had been waiting for her to acknowledge him.
"You free for lunch? Or should I keep pushing my luck?"
Mordred barely hesitated.
"Fine. Let's go," he said quickly.
Too quickly.
Nevaeh's smirk widened. Ohhh, this is too good.
She let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Wow. No arguing? No annoyed sighs? No dramatic refusal?"
Mordred's jaw tightened. He realized his mistake a second too late.
"Do you want to go or not?" he grumbled, crossing his arms.
Nevaeh grinned, rocking on her heels. "I do… I just didn't expect you to agree so fast."
Mordred scowled. "Don't make me change my mind."
Nevaeh chuckled. "Too late. I already won."
She turned on her heel and started walking.
Mordred sighed heavily but followed.
And as much as he wanted to deny it… he didn't actually mind losing this time.