Ashi sat at her desk, cheeks still warm, smiling for no reason at all.

She tried to focus on her work.

Tried.

But her thoughts kept drifting back to a quiet balcony, a half-raised hand, a moment that felt lighter than air.

She shook her head softly and forced herself to look at the screen again.

Across the street, Haruv sat on his sofa.

The room was quiet.

He carefully cleaned the dried blood from his skin, replaced the bandage, and wiped his fingers on a towel. The wound was already healing, the pain dull now, distant.

His body felt calm.

But his mind wasn’t.

Her face kept returning to him.

The way she looked at him.
The way she stood there, unaware of the effect she had.

His eyes drifted to the table.

The lunch boxes.

The ones she had left behind for him.

He stared at them for a moment.

Then exhaled.

I should return them… (He thought).

A pause.

I should make something and put it inside…

His brow furrowed slightly.

What if she doesn’t like the taste?

He stood up and walked to the kitchen.

Tied an apron around his waist.

Rested a hand on his chin, staring at the ingredients like they held the answer to something far more important than food.

“What should I make…” he thought.

Minutes passed.

Then his eyes lit up.

An idea.

And for the first time that day, a small, determined smile formed on his lips.