'Recap: I agreed to move in with Ryan, reluctantly.'

Sometimes, I wonder what the point of living really was, I mean, what’s the point of being the only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Rajput if I can’t even live as... well, myself?

To say I was disappointed would be an understatement; I was hurt—like something had been ripped out of me.

My father's unexpected betrayal stung—it pierced right through me.
Of all the people, he betrayed my independence. Seriously, a traitor.

I stormed into my apartment meanwhile Ryan trailed behind me like some lost... dinosaur? Calling him a puppy would be an insult, really.

I spun around abruptly, causing him to stop dead in his tracks.
His raised eyebrows and faux-innocence did nothing to cool my temper—it only poured fuel on it.

"Alright."I planted my hands on my hips, snapping. "If this is happening, I've some conditions— a set of rules you must follow."

"Go on," he said, strolling past me to sit on the couch. It seemed to shrink under him as he sprawled out, completely at ease.

God! Why are you testing me like this?

I glared at him, though he didn't even pay a heed to my constant death glares.

"First rule," I began, my voice rising with each word, " You'll not tell a single soul about our living arrangements. Not your friends, not our colleagues."

He gave a small shrug. "Fair enough."

His easy agreement caught me off guard. "Wait... really?"

"Why not?" he said, leaning back and resting his head, comfortably.
"I don't enjoy being the subject of office gossip either. What's next?"

I took a steadying breath, before clutching the back of a chair. Hard.
"Second rule: we don't leave the house together. Ever. No grocery shopping, no morning commutes, Nothing."

"Works for me"

"Third," I continued, after a quick cautious pause, "at work, you're my boss. Period. No inside jokes, no weird glances, and definitely no-no casual touching or... whatever." My words stumbled over themselves, and I felt a hot flush creeping up my neck.

Ryan tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Agreed."

My nails dug further into the wood. Just for science, if I hurled this chair at his head, would that break the tension—or his smugness?

"Fourth-" I gritted out,
"You respect my privacy. No snooping, no interrogations, no nosy questions about my personal life, or why I keep a pack of gummy bears in the fridge. Whatever I do is none of your business."

That grin of his stretched out wide until it reached his ears.
"You like gummy bears?"

"Not the point," I snapped, my face heating up for no good reason. Or a pretty good reason—him!

"Got it," he said smoothly. "Your room will be off-limits. Anything else?"

I opened my mouth, then shut it again, thrown off by how easily he was agreeing.

How did Ryan— the no-nonsense, arrogant, annoying boss become so cooperative?

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspiciously before continuing.
"Fifth—and this is the most important—you don't make this harder than it already is. That means no antics, no snide comments, and definitely no... no... whatever it is you're doing right now."

"And what exactly am I doing, right now?" His tone turned lower, teasing, as he rose from the couch.

Uh-Oh! I didn't mean to blurt out all of that.. nonsense. Crap!

In the blink of an eye, his energy shifted, and suddenly he was towering over me. His eyes gleamed with amusement, matching the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat.

I gulped nervously, but stayed rooted to the ground.. until I realised how close he'd come, his daunting presence filling the room. I shifted my gaze, trying to hide the fact that I was very much aware of him.

"Exactly," I muttered, stepping back to put some distance between us. "That."

Ryan held up his hands, a small crooked smile playing on his lips. "Alright, alright. I promise to follow your rules. To the letter."

I eyed him warily. "You'd better."

He moved closer, his presence looming, pulling the air from the room. He leaned in slightly, his presence filling the space between us.

"Yes dear," he whispered softly, sending a gush of warm minty breeze. "I'll try not to make your life harder."

"Well you are now," I scoffed, feigning arrogance. But it vanished into thin air when he took a deliberate step toward me, and instinctively, I took a step back.
My back hit the cold kitchen wall, and I pressed my back on the wall hoping the chill would calm my nerves. It didn't. My breath caught as his smirk melted into something faint, thoughtful, almost delicate smile. Dangerous.

"Am I?"he asked, his forest-y kinda cologne hitting my nostrils. It smells so annoyingly good.

"Y-Yeah." I stammered, causing me to mentally facepalm myself all the way to the back of my head.
Chuckling lightly, he stepped back, and straightened his tie, finally giving me some room to breathe.

I bit my inner cheeks, to stop my face from flushing, or atleast I tried to hide it.He can't read my mind.
At least, I hope not-oh God, what if he can?

Argh! This was going to be a slow descent into hell, with Ryan as my personal devil.

"Well, then... see you at the office," he said, heading for the door with that damn swagger of his.

I stared after him, for two seconds, my mind refused to acknowledge the foreign words sprouting from his goddamn mouth.

"Wait!" I called out, with a frown.
"It's Monday?!"

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder with that familiar brow-raise. "Congratulations on keeping track of days."

"Couldn't you mention it sooner?"
It sounded like I had been living under a rock, which, considering how my morning was going, was fair.

"Why do you think I was dressed up?"

"Because it's you. You always dress up."

"Not my fault. Better hurry up."
He shrugged, casually.

"Wow, thanks for the incredible help. I was absolutely lost without your oh-so-useful advice!" I screeched, completely losing my mind.

Ryan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself way too much.
"I could give you a lift, but that breaks your separate lives rule. Remember?"

And with that, he walked out, leaving me standing there.

"Jerk," I muttered under my breath, grabbing my bag and mentally preparing myself for the hellish combination of buses and auto-rickshaws that awaited me.

______

After much hustling, I finally reached my office, just in time. Well, fifteen minutes late, but considering the state I was in before dashing out the door, I considered it a win. Atleast it wasn't forty.

Gingerly sitting at my desk, I tried to collect myself, taking slow, steady breaths, willing my heart to stop racing. But the chaos of the office was relentless.

Phones rang, keyboards clicked. Emails piled up—an unstoppable avalanche. The whole place felt like a pressure cooker, the heat of deadlines and expectations simmering beneath the surface.

It didn’t help that my mind kept circling back to the rules I had set for myself—rules that were quickly becoming irrelevant in the face of Ryan’s smug face, his constant ability to push my buttons, and the fact that I’d agreed to live under the same roof with him. As if that wasn’t the most ridiculous thing I’d ever done.

"I stayed up late yesterday. I can’t do it again tonight."

A soft voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I glanced up, my gaze catching the owner of the voice. A meek, fragile-looking blonde girl.

What was her name again?
Something with an ‘E’… Emma? No...

"That's your job, Emily."

Ah, right. Emily.

She was sitting stiffly at her desk, her hands folded in her lap, staring up at one of the senior associates, Chandan. He was practically shoving a stack of files at her, indifferent to her plea.

"Not my problem," he said, his tone dismissive. "This is your task. Just get it done."

He walked off without so much as waiting for her response. I glanced over at my desk—although I had little data to tally, I couldn’t sit idle.  Without a second thought, I got up from my seat, moving quietly, crouching slightly as I approached her desk like a secret agent on a mission.

"Hey," I whispered, leaning in just enough to catch her attention without startling her too much.

That plan backfired. Emily jumped in her seat, spinning toward me with wide, startled eyes.

"Sorry," I whispered quickly, holding up my hands. "Didn’t mean to scare you."

Her hand fluttered to her chest as she exhaled shakily. "Oh, no, it’s fine," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded toward the stack of files. "That looks like a lot. Want some help?"

"Oh, no, I couldn’t—"

"Oh Come on. I’m free right now."

She hesitated before handing me a stack of files.
I gave her a quick nod of reassurance before turning on my heel and heading back to my desk with files that were heavy as f**—

.
.
.
.

After what felt like an eternity of typing furiously, my fingers finally slowed down. The last task was done, and I could hardly believe I’d made it through. Helping Emily had taken more out of me than I thought it would, but at least it was finally over.

With the files neatly stacked, I grabbed them and made my way back to her desk. Emily was hunched over her keyboard, her face lit by the glow of the screen, but she looked up as I approached.

"Here," I chirped, sliding the files onto her desk.

Emily blinked at the stack, clearly surprised. "Wow, you finished all of them? Thanks, Aisha. Seriously."

"No big deal," I scoffed, brushing it off. "Just figured you could use a break."

She leaned back in her chair, letting out a long sigh. "I really needed it. Haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in days."

I tilted my head, frowning slightly. "You okay? Is it the workload?"

She gave a small nod, her fingers drumming absently on the desk. "Yeah, kind of. Last night, I couldn't get a wink of sleep, I was so worried for Naveen—"

Hearing his name felt like a slap—sharp, cold, and completely unexpected.

"What?" The word shot out before I could catch it.

Her eyes snapped up to meet mine, wide with something that looked like guilt—or maybe regret. She hesitated, her lips parting as if to speak, but nothing came out. Then, with sudden urgency, she reached across the desk, grabbing my hand.

"Please, don't tell anyone.It’s just, he’s staying at my place." She paused, her voice trembling like she was afraid to even say it aloud. "Since he was fired... and all."

I stiffened, my breath hitched as her words sank in.

"Of course, I- I won’t say anything," I barely managed to utter, mustering enough strength.

Relief washed over her face as she let go of my hand.

"Thank you. Really, I mean it." She leaned back, her head tilting toward the ceiling as if she could finally breathe. "I owe you one. Lunch, my treat?"

I nodded automatically, a mechanical smile tugging at my lips. "Sure."

She didn’t notice the strain in my voice. She didn’t notice anything, really. Her attention was glued to her screen, fingers dancing over the keyboard.

My stomach churned, a dull ache creeping through me as I struggled to keep my expression neutral. But my hands betrayed me, trembling slightly, my fingers digging into my palms as I curled them into fists. As if a desperate try to hold on to something that was slipping through my grasp.

It wasn’t supposed to matter. Because at the end, the talks, the moments—they were all nothing..
Except they weren’t for me.

The moment Emily walked in, I knew, deep down, she was perfect for Naveen. Her confidence, her smile—it was everything he’d fall for in an instant.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt.
So why did it still feel like a punch to the gut?

I forced myself to turn away, the tight knot in my chest threatening to strangle me. But as I reached the door, a shadow in the window stopped me cold.

Ryan.

He stood just beyond the glass, his tall frame leaning into the dim hallway light, a faint outline against the shadows. His gaze lingered, piercing and deliberate, before he turned and disappeared from view.

Why does Ryan always show up when my world tilts?
Am I overthinking, or is it really a coincidence?

********

Do vote! And comment! Please.

I know it was late, but I had something else in mind. So I had to change the plot, the last minute.

Not Aisha's, but Naveen and Emily's.

I've been thinking to write their story.

But I should warn, that it'll not be sweet, soft type of thing. ( And when I write a red flags, I seem to go extreme. Trust me,I've experimented before. It'll go way extreme, and problematic. But I'll try to dilute it if I write again.)

In fact, I want an opinion, would you guys love to know thier story too?

A short spoiler-
They're not exactly green flags.

So.. do drop your thoughts.