𝐘𝐞𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐢 𝐀𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞

Two idiots

It had been a week since I joined Agnivanshi Corp. In that short time, I had managed to find my rhythm, make friends, and—unfortunately—accidentally make one guy fall for me. Not ideal.

We were seated at a cozy Korean food square near the office, enjoying our lunch break. The air smelled of sizzling meat and spicy broth, filling the space with comforting warmth. Laughter and casual banter surrounded us as we dug into our food.

"By the way, Arohi, nice pendant," Krisha said, chewing thoughtfully as she pointed at the delicate silver piece resting against my collarbone.

I glanced down at it, the small 'A' glinting under the soft lighting. A tiny smile formed on my lips, but the warmth quickly faded into something else—doubt. I had been trying not to overthink it, but sometimes I couldn't help but wonder. Could it be from Ayan? No. Why would he gift me something like this? It made no sense.

"A... for?" Veer, one of my colleagues, spoke up between bites, looking at the pendant with curiosity.

"DAFORRR! A for Arohi, of course!" Krisha smacked his arm, rolling her eyes. Everyone laughed at his ridiculous question, except him, who pouted dramatically.

"Who knows... it could be A for Ayan Agnivanshi," Veer joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Silence.

All eyes turned to him with a collective glare. The laughter died instantly, and he immediately realized his mistake.

"You just ruined my mood, tch!" Krisha huffed, dropping her chopsticks on her plate.

"Yaar! Veer, tujhe hamesha woh khadus ke naam leke hamara mood kharab karna zaroori hai kya?" Sana complained, stabbing her kimchi with unnecessary force.

"He's just hoping for a promotion," Kripa muttered, shaking her head in disapproval. 

"By the way, Arohi have u met Ayan, i swear he is crazy" sana said, and scoffed

I chuckled, twirling my spoon in my soup. "I've seen his crazier forms."

Sana, who had been mid-bite, nearly choked. "Wait, what?"

Before I could respond, she sighed dramatically and slumped against the table.

"I swear the office is going to be a disaster tomorrow," she groaned, biting the tip of her chopstick in distress.

"Why?" I asked, suddenly alert.

"Mr. Ayan is coming back from Monaco," she said with dread. "And I just know he's going to be in a terrible mood."

Kripa sighed in agreement. "Boss ka terror mode on hoga. I swear I'll have to stay the whole night to finish this file."

"Uff," Sana slapped her forehead. "We should get hazard pay for dealing with his moods."

As I swirled my spoon in the soup, I suddenly felt a strange weight settle in my chest. The mention of Ayan's return made something inside me twist—something I couldn't quite name.

I didn't want to see him.

The thought came so suddenly, so strongly, it almost startled me. I had been working here for a week, adjusting, settling in, and he hadn't been around. And maybe—just maybe—that's why it had been easier. Because he wasn't here. Because I didn't have to face him.

Now, the thought of walking into the office tomorrow and seeing those cold, calculating eyes on me again made my stomach churn. I didn't want to see him. I wanted to hide. I wanted to disappear before he could so much as glance in my direction.

But then, why did my chest feel so tight?

I blinked, realizing my vision had blurred. My fingers clenched around my chopsticks as I forced a deep breath, but my throat burned, and to my absolute horror, I felt tears welling up. What the hell is wrong with me?