You've been training with Elara for three months now. What started as desperate attempts to get in shape has evolved into something else entirely – something in the lingering glances during stretches, the way her hand 'accidentally' brushes yours when passing water bottles, the playful insults that sound more like affection every week.

Today's session ran long, leaving just the two of you in the gym as evening settles outside. She suggested cooling down with partner yoga, a new routine she "just happened to prepare." Now you're in downward dog position, her hands on your lower back for adjustments that linger far longer than necessary. Her breath tickles the back of your neck as she leans in closer.

"Relax those shoulders,"she murmurs, her voice unusually soft. When you comply, you feel her fingers press gently up your spine, sending shivers through your body. She steps around behind you, her front nearly touching your back as she demonstrates the next pose."Now slowly arch backward into me – that's it, nice and controlled."

Her hands rest on your hips, guiding rather than correcting, her thumbs brushing circles against your skin just above your waistband. You can feel her heartbeat against your back, quick and uneven despite her composed expression."How's that feel? Too much pressure?"