The Sisodia heirs stood unrivaled in control and possession, their world a testament to their might. To onlookers, their lives were a manifestation of perfection, with their family and surname commanding respect, prestige, and reputation.
Yet, behi...
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I glanced at the time, and it was fifteen minutes ahead of Shirina's usual arrival time.
"Come in," I said, responding to the knock on the door.
Shirina walked inside, her presence brightening my morning. I gazed at her, a deep sense of tranquility taking over, as if mere sight of her was enough to soothe my soul.
"Good morning, sir," she wished, placing my coffee and schedule on the table.
I acknowledged her greeting with a slight nod, my face remaining stoic. I noticed her slightly ragged breathing, and wondered if she had rushed to get here.
"I was finishing the task you assigned, that's why I got late," she explained, her eyes fixed on the floor. I recognized this behavior of hers. It was a telltale sign of her nervousness.
"I didn't say anything," I replied, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"No, but you will think I am taking my job for granted and that's not true." Her words flowed quickly, and she closed her eyes for a brief moment, her expression self-reprochful.
It struck me that she was saying this because of my words, that I used to reprimand her the other day.
That bastard Rudra was the reason for my foul mood. He came into my way out of nowhere and provoked me relentlessly, which triggered me. Later, I lashed out on her due to my pent-up aggravation.
For an instant, I considered clarifying that I didn't think poorly of her, but decided against it. If I did, she would likely to ask me for the reason behind my outburst, and I didn't want to go there.
"I see, Shirina, you are improving," I attempted to steer the conversation back on track and picked up my coffee mug. "Bring your focus back and read out my schedule for the day."
She lifted her gaze, then looked away, suppressing a response. She began to read out my schedule, while I observed her keenly.
Over the past few days, I have grown accustomed to reading her body language, understanding her through her actions.
I knew she blinked rapidly when puzzled, opened and closed her mouth when annoyed, stared at a single point when nervous, interlocked her fingers when stressed.
She tapped her foot on the ground in impatience—she did that while waiting for my permission to leave. And I could say she loved to zone out in between conversations.
Also, not to miss the most important thing about her, which was her seemingly favorite dialogue — 'I'm sorry, sir'.
Everything about her fascinated me, and I looked forward to more of our interactions daily. With each passing day, I found myself drawn to her more and more. She had already become an integral part of my daily routine and my life. She seemed oblivious to the emotions she evoked in me with her mere presence.
