Mission Love (Completed)

Nineteen

Recap : Ryan fired Naveen.

"Um… Sir?" I started, nervously licking my chapped lips as the printer beeped nonstop, spitting out papers at a rapid pace.

"Could you reconsider your decision… you know, I mean.. firing him—" I chuckled awkwardly, attempting a smile and hoping—no, praying—he’d listen. But when I glanced over, my hopeful grin froze faster than my confidence.

Ryan just sat there, silent, his eyebrows drawn together in a tight frown as he scanned each page in the file thoroughly scanning for even a tiny spell error. That Vile Creature!

I was so, so close to turning into vapour and just... swishing away.

"He stole the file," he said after letting out a huge sigh. His laser-like eyes were still focused on the file as if he might bore holes through it with sheer irritation.

"Um—well, I mean… it could be a misunderstanding," I mumbled, trying my best not to sound like I was taking sides.

Suddenly, Ryan’s hand froze mid-page. He shut the file with an ominous snap, and before I could blink, he swivelled his chair to face me, fixing me with a look so piercing I could practically feel my self-confidence draining like water from a leaky bucket.

Um- Sir was that necessary?

"This," he said, lifting the file and giving it a slight shake, "isn’t just a file, Aisha. You know that very well." He paused, his gaze still burning into me. "But if you want to defend him, go ahead. It’s your choice."

He was calm, too calm, which—let’s face it—was terrifying.

"I… I wasn’t defending him," I stammered out.

"It’s just… it felt harsh." My voice was barely above a whisper.
Maybe if I said it quietly enough, it wouldn’t count?

"I know,"
He kept his gaze fixed on me, as he said it, completely unblinking, as if he could see through every nervous thought I was having.

"Then… can’t you change it?" I asked, aiming for a normal tone. But instead, my words came out in a whine, high-pitched and horrifically informal.

Oh Crap! Did I just whine?

I immediately shut my mouth, realising my mistake(s).

He wasn’t my friend—it wasn’t my home—and I just used an informal tone.

I cleared my throat, my cheeks flushed as I averted my gaze, desperately trying to pretend that, that didn't happened,

He didn't notice, did he?

Focusing back to gathering the stack of papers from the printer with probably a bit too much focus, stapling them with the precision of someone trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. Then, I placed the neat stack on the table as if that would erase my slip-up.

"Unless…" I trailed off, hesitating, because let’s face it, my track record today isn’t exactly stellar.
"Unless, there's something else going on?"

I regretted it the instant it left my mouth.

Ryan had long gone— I mean zoned out—his eyes flickered with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
He opened his mouth, then stopped, frozen like a statue, his mouth slightly ajar. And went silent.
Completely, utterly silent. His face went blank, like someone had hit the "mute" button.