No, you areNOTthe only one.Thatlook at 0:17??HELP
I paused the video at the timestamp mentioned in the last comment.ThereIwas, blindfolded and waiting, and there wasTeddy, standing in front of me, looking at me with an intense, focused, almost tender expression.
Had she really been looking at me like that?Itried to remember whatI’dbeen feeling in that moment, but allIcould recall was the competitive drive coursing through me.
More comments kept appearing asIwatched:
The sexual tension isOFFTHECHARTS
Either these two are together or they need to be
Redhead, if you’re reading this,PLEASEgive us the tea.
Do you do weddings?Like, as the bride?
My face was burning.Imean, yes, there wassomethingbetweenTeddyand me.And, sure, my friends had teased me.ButIhadn’t realised it was palpable enough to be visible to random strangers on the internet.Onthe one hand, it wasvalidatingthat it wasn’t all in my head.AndIshould be flattered, right?Iwas half of who they were all thirsting over, after all.Buton the other hand … well, it didn’t make it easier to stop thinking aboutTeddy.
My phone buzzed with yet another notification–Ishould really turn them off– andIgroaned whenIsaw it was fromInstagram.Someonehad replied to our story.AllI’dposted had been the videoI’djust shared and a photo ofJen’slatest watercolour– a gnarled oak tree in the wildflowermeadow– soIassumed it was more of the same.
It wasn’t.Itwas worse.
A photo had appeared on the farm’sInstagramstory thatIdefinitely hadn’t posted.ItshowedTeddyand me during that beekeeping lesson a few days ago–Iknew when it was from the gimbal just visible in the corner of the photo.Shewas handing me a frame heavy with honey, and even through the protective mesh veiling our faces, there was something unmistakablyintimateabout the moment.Theway we were leaning towards each other, the careful way her hands guided mine to support the frame’s weight…
What the hell?
I screenshotted it in case it disappeared, then racked my brain for where it could have come from.Iwas meticulous about everything that went on the account– every photo was planned, edited, and scheduled with care.Thiswasn’t mine.AndIdidn’t remember seeing anyone whilst we were working, though, based on the look on my face in the picture,Iprobably wouldn’t have.
OurDMswereexploding.Apparently, the beekeeping photo had sent people into overdrive:
OK, but this is literally art.
The way you look at each other even in those suits…Ican’t
This is the most romantic thingI’veever seen and you’re wearingHEADNETS
Ma’am the chemistry isCHEMISTRYING
Please tell me you’re aware how in love you both look
I would pay good money for the story behind this photo.
Okay, yes, it was a beautiful photo– artistic and intimate in a way that somehow transcended the practical beekeeping gear.Buthaving random strangers analyse my supposed romantic chemistry with my co-worker was deeply unsettling, especially whenIwasn’t even sure whatIfelt about it myself.
I needed answers about where this photo came from, andIhad a pretty good idea where to start.Imarched straight through the flower garden, pastTeddyandWillow, to the main house.
I foundJenin her studio, hunched over a new canvas.Shelooked up whenIknocked on the doorframe, a streak of yellow paint decorating her cheek, nearly perfectly matching her jumpsuit.Shespent an awful lot of time in the studio, given that she was, in theory, running the place, usually painting some scene from around the farm.
“Hey, who else has access to theInstagramaccount?”Iasked without preamble. “Becausethere’s this photo, andIdon’t know where?—”
I stopped mid-sentence, staring at the canvas she was working on.Itwas still mostly pencil sketch, butIcould already see what it was going to be.Thesame composition as the mystery photo–Teddyand me with the honeycomb frame, captured in the moment of careful exchange.
“You’ve seen it, then,”Isaid, looking up at her.Shewore an almost giddy look on her face.
“Seen it?Iposted it!”
“You did?”Iasked, trying not to sound upset– she was my boss, and it was her business’sInstagramaccount at the end of the day– but did she have to look so gleeful about it?
I stepped closer to the easel, studying the emergingpainting.Evenin its rough state, it was beautiful,Ihad to admit.Jenhad captured something in our posture, in the angle of our heads, that spoke of trust and connection. “Wheredid you even get the photo?”
