blinked awake, and my gaze fell on Aanya, still curled up in my lap, I smiled softly feeling the warmth of her presence. But then, realization struck me like a cold splash of water.

My chest tightened as panic set in. I had fallen asleep. Fallen asleep without preparing dinner for her. What would she think? What if she was angry?
Carefully, I shifted Aanya onto the couch, making sure she didn't stir.

Rushing into the kitchen, I glanced at the clock. It was already 7. My hands trembled as I grabbed the coffee beans. Breakfast needed to be ready soon, I muttered under my breath, frustration building as I tried to focus on the task. But my mind raced.

"Ishita must've been so tired. She works so hard... and I- what if she hadn't eaten? She must've come back late last night, hungry and exhausted, and I didn't even prepare anything for her. What if she's upset? What if she thinks I don't care?"

I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away. My hands moved quickly measuring the coffee, boiling water and adding just the right amount of sugar. But even as I worked, my thoughts kept running.

"Why am I like this? Why can't I just do one thing right? Why can't I be better for her...?"

The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen. I poured it into a cup, my hands still unsteady. As I walked toward Ishita's room, the sound of my footsteps echoed louder in my head than in the silent corridor.

When I reached her door, I paused. Her voice, sharp and angry, cut through the quiet.

"TUM SAMAJHTE KYA HO APNE AAP KO?!"
("WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOURSELF?!")

He froze. Ishita's voice, sharp and commanding, sliced through the quiet morning air.

Peeking cautiously, he saw her standing with her back to him, her phone pressed to her ear. Her posture was rigid, her words laced with frustration.

Before he could decide whether to enter,the sound of her phone hitting the ground made me flinch. My hands trembled harder, and before I knew it, the cup slipped from my grasp, shattering into pieces on the floor.

The crash felt deafening, and suddenly, the room wasn't Ishita's anymore. It wasn't the present.

It was then.

I had dropped a cup back then too, the sound hauntingly similar. And then came the voice.

"Bekaar! Tumse ek kaam theek se nahi hota!"
(Useless! You can't do a single thing right!)

Her voice thundered, sharp and cruel. Then came the hand, swift and stinging, leaving a burning pain on my cheek. I had stood there trembling,ashamed.Tears streaming down my face as I whispered apologies she never heard.

And here I was again. Kneeling on the floor, picking up the broken shards with trembling fingers. Tears blurred my vision. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." I whispered, over and over my voice cracking.

"Ayaan."

Her voice wasn't loud. It wasn't angry. It was soft, almost hesitant.

I froze, not daring to look up.

"Stop," she said gently, kneeling beside me. A hand touched mine, stilling my trembling fingers. Slowly, I looked up, and for the first time, I saw something in Ishita's eyes I hadn't expected.

Kindness.

She reached out, brushing a tear from my cheek with the gentlest touch I had ever known. Her voice, soft yet steady, broke the silence. "There's no need to apologize, It's just a cup."

Her words didn't make sense to me. How could it not matter? How could she not be angry?

"I..I didn't even make dinner," I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. "I... I fell asleep. I-"

"It's okay," Ishita interrupted, her tone reassuring. "It happens." She placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "You don't need to clean this up. Relax"
I stared at her, unsure of how to respond.

She stood, extending a hand to help me up. Her touch was firm yet comforting, and for the first time in years, I felt a sense of calm I hadn't known in a long time.

I stood up slowly, my legs unsteady beneath me, and managed to whisper a soft, "Thank you."

She nodded, her lips curving into the faintest smile, a gesture so subtle yet so unexpected that it left me momentarily frozen.

"I... I'll go prepare breakfast," I said, my voice still shaky, though I could feel a hint of steadiness creeping back in.

"Take your time," she replied, her tone softer than I'd expected.I nodded unable to find words. As I walked away, a strange warmth filled me something I couldn't quite name.

End of POV

As Ayaan's footsteps faded, I stared at the broken shards on the floor. His trembling hands, his stammering apologies they weren't normal. He wasn't just nervous; he was scared.

Why?

That kind of fear doesn't come from a single mistake. It comes from years of being told you're worthless. I'd seen it before in people crushed under power, but Ayaan didn't belong to my world of sharp edges and ruthless rules.

I thought back to the first day I saw him, standing at my door, quiet and hesitant. Even then, there was a shadow in his eyes I hadn't cared to notice.

Now, it felt different.

He wasn't just scared,he was trying. Trying so hard to please, to fix, to avoid disappointing anyone. And it wasn't fair.

A strange ache settled in my chest. For the first time in years, I wanted to know. What had broken him this way? And why did I feel like I wanted to protect him from it?

End of POV

💖✨️

An hour later, Ayaan was almost done preparing breakfast. The kitchen filled with the rich aroma of freshly cooked pancakes and juice. His hands moved with ease, flipping the pancakes, but his ears were attuned to the sounds coming from the living room.

Aanya's voice broke through, her tone playful but urgent. "Bhaiya Choti banado!"
("Bhaiya, please make my braid.")

Aanya, with her hair still tousled, was standing in front of the mirror in loving room, comb in hand, her usual morning hustle to get ready for school.

"Five minutes baccha" Ayaan called out from the kitchen, as he was cooking the last pancake

"But bhaiya, I'm getting late!" Aanya whined, her voice carrying a hint of frustration.

Before Ayaan could respond, Ishita's calm voice came from the living room. "Mai banadu?"
("Shall I do it?")

Aanya's relief was almost immediate. "Yes, please!"

Ayaan smiled softly as he finished the last pancake and set the pan aside,wiping his hands and added honey syrup. As he made his way into the living room, he stopped in his tracks.

Ishita was standing behind Aanya, her hands skillfully weaving through Aanya's hair, carefully combing it into a neat braid. Aanya sat in the chair, looking up at Ishita with a mixture of trust and comfort in her eyes.

Aanya giggled suddenly, a sound full of lighthearted joy, and Ayaan felt a warmth spread through him. It wasn't just the sight of them,it was the effortless bond they shared, a bond that felt as natural as breathing.

Ayaan placed the breakfast plates on the table. "Ma'am, breakfast," he said quietly.

Ishita looked up from her task, meeting his gaze briefly before turning to Aanya. "Aanya, tumne breakfast kiya?" she asked, her voice soft.("Aanya, did you have breakfast?")

Aanya shook her head, her little face pouting.

Ishita smiled gently and picked up the plate. "Jaldi khao," she said, placing it in front of Aanya.("Eat quickly.")

Aanya nodded, eagerly starting to eat pancakes, as she continued braiding her hair with care.

Ayaan stood by, watching them with a quiet smile on his face. It wasn't shock he felt,it wasn't even surprise anymore. He'd seen Ishita's softer side with Aanya, but there was something about this moment that was different. It wasn't just the care that she showed; it was the unspoken connection between them, the way Aanya trusted her, the way Ishita's actions spoke volumes without words.

Ayaan leaned against the wall, his heart swelling with something he couldn't quite name. For the first time in a long while, the house didn't feel like just a place to stay. It felt like a home.

"She's so kind," he thinks, watching her from a distance. "But there's something....different about her."
_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.