When I return, she’s curled up on the couch like a grumpy cat, holding her abdomen, cheeks flushed.
I place the mug beside her, grab a cushion, and sit next to her. She watches me with one brow raised.
“You didn’t have to come,” she says, quieter now. “You didn’t even have to know.”
“I wanted to.” I pause, then add, “I needed to.”
She studies me for a beat. “You took a leave, didn’t you?”
I nod. Her eyes widen, all mock surprise and devilish glee. “Abhimaan took a day off?”
“Yeah.”
“From his company?”
“Yep.”
“For me?”
“I have done that before,” I remind her.
She gives me a sly look. “At this rate, everyone’s going to know you’re into me.”
I tilt my head and meet her gaze. “Let them.”
That shuts her up.
“I am into you,” I say, voice low and steady. “And I don’t care what anyone thinks.”
She blinks. Her lips part, but no teasing comeback comes. For once.
I take her hand and gently pull it into my lap. “You scared me,” I admit, watching her fingers. “When you didn’t answer… I couldn’t breathe right.”
She’s still quiet.
“I know we’re... You may think this is still very new. But when you’re not near me, my mind does this thing. It just—” I exhale. “It spirals. I think about everything that could go wrong. And I know I can’t protect you from everything. I’m not trying to control you. I just…”
I trail off. My throat feels dry. “What I am asking for may sound like too much, and I understand if you refuse, but for my mental peace,” I chuckle, “could you move in with me?”
She stares at me, her expression neutral, and I have come to realize she may have picked that up from me, and I hate that, but the next moment she leans forward, cups my face, and kisses me. It’s not a sweet, grateful kiss. It’s not gentle or slow. It’s unfiltered. Fierce. Like she’s telling me to shut up. Like she’stelling me she gets it. Like she’s asking me not to say anything more because she’s already heard everything she needed to.
When she pulls back, I’m slightly dazed. Her thumb brushes my jaw. She smirks.
“That’s ayouproblem,” she murmurs.
I blink.
“But,” she adds, eyes glinting with something softer now, “being a good and caring girlfriend, I’ll help solve it for you.”
“Oh?” I murmur.
“Yeah.” Her smirk widens. “I’ll let you move in with me.”
I stare at her, stunned. Of course. I chuckle.
She shrugs. “I don’t want your productivity reports suffering because I slept through a few missed calls. Besides…” she curls back into me, stealing my tea, “…you’re warm. And I like warm.”
I wrap an arm around her and pull her closer, kissing the top of her head. She drifts off soon after, curled into my side, breath evening out, fingers still loosely tangled with mine like she’s anchored there—and maybe I am too. I watch her for a while, the rise and fall of her chest, the way my hoodie hangs over her knees, and the faint crease between her brows softening with sleep. The world can think what it wants, and the office can manage without me for a day, maybe even two—because right now, all that matters is this quiet moment, her warmth pressed into me, and the silent promise that I’ll keep showing up, that I will always protect her, not just for her bad days, but all of them.
