Chemistry looks effortless on the page, but it never happens by accident. It’s the product of intention, contrast, and timing — the quiet details that make two people feel like they click, even before they realise it themselves.
When I’m building chemistry between characters, I think less about “romantic moments” and more about the small, revealing beats that shape how they see each other.
I start with friction or contrast. Not necessarily enemies, but two people whose worldviews brush against each other in ways that create tension. Chemistry grows out of reaction: how one character challenges, disarms, or surprises the other. If there’s no contrast, there’s nothing to spark.
From there, I focus on specificity. Chemistry isn’t “their eyes met across the room.” It’s the moment one of them notices something oddly endearing or unexpectedly vulnerable, something no one else has bothered to see. Maybe it’s a habit, a flaw, a hidden softness they weren’t prepared for. Those quiet recognitions carry more weight than any grand gesture.
Dialogue is another cornerstone. Banter only works if it reveals character rather than functioning as noise. Sharp exchanges show intelligence, confidence, frustration — all emotions that heighten attraction when used deliberately. The trick is letting each line shift the dynamic just slightly, moving them from verbal sparring to understanding.
I also hold back more than I give. Chemistry thrives on restraint. A brush of fingers, a half-finished sentence, a look that lingers a second too long — these micro-moments generate far more tension than jumping straight into overt romance. Readers feel the charge because the characters almost go there but don’t.
Finally, I track emotional stakes. Chemistry matters most when there’s something real at risk. A character who stands to lose comfort, pride, safety, or control will resist attraction in a way that deepens it. The push and pull becomes meaningful rather than mechanical.
When all of these pieces start lining up — contrast, specificity, dialogue, restraint, and stakes — chemistry becomes inevitable. It isn’t magic. It’s intention layered so carefully that the characters don’t even realise they’re falling until the reader is already fully invested.