-- 𝘼𝙮𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙖 𝙋𝙊𝙑 --
He’s there. Ayaan is sitting in the chair, staring at me with those intense eyes, as if he's been waiting for me all along.
"Trying to kill me with that glare?" I tease, raising an eyebrow.
"If only I could... but unfortunately," he replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"How mean," I reply, a playful edge in my voice, but I see his face fall just a little.
"Oh... sorry," he says, softer now, like he's genuinely apologizing, his gaze flickering away from mine.
"Seriously? Are you even the same Ayaan I used to know, or are you just pretending to be him?" I ask, my voice is lighter, though I can't shake the feeling that something's different.
-- 𝘼𝙮𝙖𝙖𝙣'𝙨 𝙋𝙊𝙑 --
What the hell is even going on? Why did I say sorry for something like that? I never apologize for stuff like this. At this point, I kind of want to scream or disappear. I can’t even look her in the eyes now because, once again, I’ve done something stupid. Seriously, sorry? Why, God, whyyy?
"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice soft but curious.
"Why do you keep asking the same question?" I snap, a bit harsher than I intended.
"It's just... you're acting a little weird," she says, narrowing her eyes, clearly confused.
"Weird? Me? Maybe you should focus on being on time for once. You're late," I say, deflecting, trying to change the topic.
"I'm only two minutes late! You're the one who showed up early," she retorts, arms crossed.
"Obviously, because I take my work seriously," I say, but immediately realize how that sounds.
"You mean to say I don't?" she challenges, her tone sharp.
"I never said that. You’re the one making assumptions," I respond, trying to stay calm.
"Well, what you just said pretty much implied it," she counters, clearly not letting me off the hook.
"You—" she starts, but before she can finish, there's a soft knock on the door. Amaira steps in, perfectly timed, cutting off the conversation like some kind of divine intervention.
"Ma'am, here are the papers you asked me to prepare," Amaira says, her voice polite and professional.
"Okay, just leave them on the table," she responds, her eyes lingering on me for a second longer before turning her attention to the papers.
As Amaira places the documents down and leaves, I can’t help but feel a mix of relief and dread. I dodged that conversation—for now—but I know it’s only a matter of time before it comes back to bite me.
"Let’s just get back to work. I don’t want to argue with you anymore," she says, her tone clipped but calm.
"Oh, okay... sure," I reply, not wanting to push any further.
We both settle into our chairs and dive into the work. The next few hours blur together as we discuss plans, sketch ideas, and bounce suggestions off each other. Time flies by, three hours passing in what feels like only three minutes.
Finally, feeling the weight of exhaustion creep in, I stretch my arms over my head and roll my neck to ease the tension. She’s busy reading through some papers, completely focused, but my gaze shifts to her. And then I can’t seem to look away.
YOU ARE READING
The Silence Between Us
RomansA girl named Ayesha meets an unknown boy at night and starts falling for him. They both do the stargazing together but after 2 months when they meet he refuses to recognize Ayesha. Heartbroken she shares her sorrow with her father who is a famous a...
