The Weight of Silence

Chapter 6

Suddenly, Sayjan stopped what he was doing, hand frozen mid-air as he listened intently. I glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, a teasing smile forming on my lips.

He didn't answer right away, his eyes focused on the speaker. There was a shift in him, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Then, the song that had been playing softly in the background suddenly became clear, and I saw his expression soften.

"This song..." His voice was almost distant, as if the music had taken him somewhere else.

I paused, intrigued.

He turned to face me, his eyes meeting mine with a quiet intensity. "It's a song my parents used to play. Late at night, when I was little. They'd play it when they thought I was asleep."

I blinked, a little surprised by the softness in his voice.

"They'd dance around the kitchen, like they were in their own little world. I'd lie in bed pretending to sleep, but I could hear them."

There was something so intimate in the way he said it, like he was letting me in on a part of his life that was precious to him. The air around us seemed to shift, the playful atmosphere we'd had earlier now replaced by something more vulnerable, more real. I couldn't help but feel the weight of his words.

"That sounds really special," I said softly, more to myself than to him.

He gave a small shrug, but his eyes still had that faraway look. "Yeah. It was."

I shifted my weight, suddenly feeling like I was standing a little too close to something I didn't know how to handle.

"I don't think I've ever had a song like that," I said, trying to lighten the mood again. "I mean, I've got songs I like, but nothing that... means anything."

Sayjan glanced at me, a playful glint returning to his eyes.

"Well, maybe you just haven't found the right one yet."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Maybe. I don't think I'd be dancing around the kitchen like your parents, though."

"You don't know that."

I raised an eyebrow, pretending to be skeptical. "Dancing while baking? I'm not sure that's my thing."

Sayjan shrugged, not backing down. "You never know until you try. I could teach you."

"Teach me?" I laughed. "What, you think I can be taught to dance in the kitchen?"

Before I could protest more, he grabbed my hand, pulling me gently toward him. I stumbled slightly, caught off guard by his sudden move, but he steadied me with a soft laugh. The music was still playing, its rhythm light and easy, and before I could stop myself, I found myself swaying a little with him.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice a little breathless, but I didn't pull away.

He didn't answer right away, instead guiding me into a slow, gentle rhythm. "Just follow my lead," he said, his voice low and teasing. "It's easy."

I hesitated for a moment, but something in the way he held my hand, the way he looked at me, made it hard to resist. So, I moved with him, my steps a little awkward at first, but soon finding a comfortable rhythm. It wasn't anything fancy—just a slow sway around the kitchen, the music swirling around us.

We moved together, the tension from earlier easing into something more relaxed, more natural. It felt easy, like we'd done this a thousand times before. There was no awkwardness now, just the simple pleasure of being in sync with each other, of sharing this small moment.

The song played on, and I found myself lost in the rhythm, in the way Sayjan's hand felt warm in mine, in the way his presence seemed to fill the space between us. It was like the world outside the kitchen didn't exist—just the two of us, the music, and the soft, shared laughter.

When the song finally ended, we both paused, still standing close, our hands lingering together for a moment longer than necessary. I felt a little breathless, my heart beating faster than it had a moment ago.

"Well," Sayjan said, breaking the silence with a smile, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

I shook my head, still smiling. "I'm not sure I'm ready to make dancing in the kitchen a regular thing, though."

He chuckled. "Fair enough. But you know, you're always welcome to join me for a little more practice."

"Practice?" I raised an eyebrow. "What, so you can turn me into a professional kitchen dancer?"

"Exactly," he said with a wink. "It's a work in progress."

I rolled my eyes, but the smile on my face was impossible to hide. "Maybe next time."