The first time Leni noticed Risa wasn’t because she was loud.
It was because she wasn’t.
In a newsroom full of chaos.. phones ringing, editors shouting, coffee being permanently half-spilled.. Risa moved like she didn’t belong to the noise. Like she was observing it instead of surviving it.
“New hire?” Leni asked one of the senior reporters, barely looking up from her case file.
“Journalist from field assignment. Transfered here for political desk,” the editor replied. “Good instincts. Dangerous curiosity.”
Leni finally looked up at that.
Risa was standing near the glass board, listening more than speaking, pen tapping lightly against her notebook like she was already rewriting the world in her head.
When their eyes briefly met, Risa didn’t smile.
She just looked at Leni like she was trying to understand her.
That should’ve ended there.
It didn’t.
_________
The second time they spoke, it was after a press briefing that turned into a shouting match.
Leni stepped out of the building first, jaw tight, file folder pressed too hard against her side. She had won the argument, technically.
But it still felt like losing something.
“Attorney Leni.”
She stopped.
Risa was leaning against the corridor wall like she had been waiting there the entire time, not rushing, not panting, just… present. “You don’t like journalists,”
Leni raised an eyebrow. “That’s not true.”
Risa tilted her head slightly. “You correct them too quickly. That usually means irritation.”
A pause.
Leni exhaled. “You talk too much for someone who observes so much.”
Risa smiled faintly at that. “And you observe too much for someone who pretends not to care.”
That landed somewhere inconvenient.
Leni adjusted her grip on the folder. “Is this an interview?”
Risa shook her head. “Not yet.”
Not yet.
Like it was something still forming.
Like neither of them had decided what this was supposed to be.
___________
They started running into each other too often for it to feel accidental.
Courtrooms. Briefings. Hallway exits that somehow always led to the same stretch of silence.
Risa would ask questions Leni didn’t expect. Leni would answer more than she intended.
And somewhere between legal language and investigative notes, they started learning each other’s rhythms.
“Why do you always assume people are lying?” Risa asked once, during a late press break.
Leni didn’t look at her immediately. “Because sometimes they are.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is. You just don’t like it.”
Risa closed her notebook. “No. I think you just stopped trusting people.”
That made Leni pause. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter. “I trust evidence.”
Risa nodded slowly. “That’s safer.”
A beat.
Then, softer, “But lonely.”
Leni didn’t respond to that.
But she didn’t deny it either.
_________
It wasn’t romance. Not in the obvious way.
There were no declarations. No dramatic shifts. No moment where everything suddenly made sense. Just small things.
Risa saving Leni a seat at press scrums she didn’t have to attend.
Leni leaving clarifications in case files that were technically not part of her job, but “helpful for context.”
Coffee left on desks without names.
Glances held too long to be professional, but not long enough to be dangerous.
_______
One night, the newsroom stayed late after a breaking political scandal.
Lights dimmed. Screens still glowing. The city outside already asleep or pretending to be. Risa was typing fast, hair slightly messy now, sleeves rolled up. Leni was standing near the window, reviewing documents she technically didn’t need to still be there for.
“You’re still here,” Risa said without looking up.
Leni hummed. “So are you.”
“That’s not surprising,” Risa replied. “I chase stories.”
Leni finally turned slightly. “And what am I in this one?”
That made Risa stop typing.
Not fully. Just enough.
She looked up. For once, the journalist didn’t answer immediately. “I don’t know yet,” she admitted.
Leni nodded slowly. “Careful.”
Risa tilted her head. “Of what?”
Leni looked back at the city outside. “Of turning people into endings before they’ve decided what they are.”
Silence.
Then Risa said quietly, “What if they don’t get to decide?”
That question stayed longer than either of them expected.
_____________
They never defined anything but they also never stepped away.
And that was the most complicated part because some things don’t begin loudly.
They just slowly start existing in the space between two people who keep choosing to stay in the same room.
