The office was nearly silent. The hum of the air conditioner filled the empty space, steady and mechanical — like Kabir.
Anaya sat across from him, laptop open, the soft glow reflecting in her tired eyes. They'd stayed back to finalize a report that Veer had promised to review in the morning. His name was still on the project file. That annoyed Kabir more than it should.
"Did you adjust the final numbers?" he asked, eyes never leaving the screen.
"Yes," she said. "Veer helped me reformat them earlier."
His fingers stilled on the keyboard. "Veer seems to help a lot lately."
She frowned slightly. "He's just… easy to work with. He listens."
Kabir looked up, sharp and expressionless. "Listening isn't the same as understanding."
Her lips pressed together. "I wasn't comparing."
"You were." His tone was calm, factual — as if stating an equation. "You respond differently to him."
Anaya exhaled slowly, pushing her chair back. "Because he doesn't talk like everything's a test, Kabir. Not everything has to be about control."
"Control keeps things functional."
"Control kills connection."
The words lingered between them — quiet but cutting. She gathered her papers, trying to steady her breathing. Kabir watched her movements, every one of them calculated but edged with emotion.
"You're taking this personally," he said, voice still flat.
"Because it is personal!" she snapped, then caught herself. "You treat everyone like data points — like you're waiting for people to prove something before you even trust them."
Kabir's jaw tightened. "Trust is earned."
"Or maybe you're just afraid of it."
For a moment, the silence broke its own rhythm. Kabir's eyes met hers — cold, steady, but not empty. There was something beneath it, something he refused to name.
Anaya sighed, defeated. "You know what's strange? Veer said you probably mean well, that you just don't know how to show it."
That hit harder than she realized.
Kabir's voice came quieter, sharper. "He said that?"
"Yeah," she said softly. "He thinks people misunderstand you."
He leaned back, unreadable. "How considerate of him."
Anaya stared at him a moment longer, searching for something that wasn't there — warmth, reassurance, anything. Then she turned away.
As she left the cabin, Kabir's gaze followed her reflection in the glass. His own face stared back — calm, controlled, perfectly composed.But inside, something had shifted.
Veer's voice — through Anaya — had entered the room long before he did.