The kettle clicked off with a soft snap, the sound cutting cleanly through the quiet hum of the apartment.

Aarohi Mehta didn't look up immediately. Her eyes remained fixed on the laptop screen in front of her, fingers moving steadily across the keyboard, finishing a sentence before she finally exhaled and leaned back.

Only then did she reach for the mug beside her... cold.

"Of course," she muttered under her breath.

From the other side of the apartment, a voice rang out.

"Did you just forget your tea again?"

Aarohi closed her eyes briefly, already knowing the tone, half amusement, half accusation.

"I didn't forget," she called back. "I postponed drinking it."

"That's not a thing!"

Naina Kapoor appeared in the doorway seconds later, wrapped in an oversized T-shirt and a messy bun that had given up halfway through the night. She held two mugs, steam curling lazily into the air.

"You do this every day," Naina said, walking in and placing one fresh cup beside Aarohi. "One day, I'm just going to stop making it for you."

"You say that every day," Aarohi replied calmly, finally looking up.

"And one day, I'll mean it."

"You won't."

Naina narrowed her eyes. "I absolutely will."

Aarohi took a slow sip of the tea, her expression unchanged. "You like taking care of people too much."

"That is not true," Naina shot back immediately. Then paused. "Okay, maybe a little. But that's not the point."

A soft knock echoed from the main door before either of them could continue.

Neither of them reacted for a second.

Then, in perfect sync, both said, "Kabir."

The door opened without waiting for permission.

Kabir Khanna stepped in like he owned the place—which, in some ways, he practically did. Dressed in a crisp shirt with sleeves rolled up just enough to look intentional, not careless, he carried the faint scent of aftershave and morning confidence.

"Good morning, dysfunctional humans," he announced, dropping his keys onto the console table.

Naina folded her arms. "You have your own apartment."

"And yet, I choose to start my mornings here. Says a lot, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Aarohi said dryly. "About your lack of boundaries."

Kabir ignored her, his gaze already scanning the room before settling on Aarohi's laptop.

"You've been working since morning?"

"Since six."

"It's barely eight."

"And your point?"

He walked over, leaning slightly to glance at her screen. "My point is, normal people sleep."

Aarohi didn't move. "Normal people don't have deadlines at nine."

Kabir clicked his tongue softly. "You're going to burn out."

"I'll schedule it."

Naina snorted, unable to hold it in. "She actually would."

Kabir shook his head, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. He moved toward the kitchen without asking, already familiar with where everything was.

"Did you at least eat?" he asked.

Silence.

He turned slowly.

"That's a no."

"I'll eat at the office," Aarohi said, still typing.

"That's also a lie."

"It's not..."

"You'll have coffee and call it breakfast," he cut in.

Naina pointed at him dramatically. "Exactly. Thank you."

Aarohi sighed, finally closing her laptop. "Both of you need hobbies."

"We have hobbies," Kabir said, pulling out bread. "You're our hobby."

"That's concerning."

"Extremely," Naina agreed.

But neither of them looked particularly bothered.

The drive to work was chaotic in the way only Delhi mornings could be.

Kabir drove. Aarohi sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through emails on her phone, already mentally halfway into the workday. Naina sat in the back, humming softly to whatever song was playing, occasionally interrupting with unnecessary commentary.

"Can we stop for coffee?" she asked.

"No," Aarohi and Kabir replied in unison.

Naina gasped. "You two are actually terrible people."

"You already had tea," Kabir said.

"That was emotional support tea. This is functional coffee."

Aarohi didn't look up. "You'll survive."

Naina leaned forward, resting her chin between the front seats. "You know, one day, I'm going to move out and find better friends."

Kabir glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "No, you won't."

"Why?"

"Because you like us too much."

Naina opened her mouth to argue...then paused.

"...okay, that's annoyingly accurate."

Aarohi allowed herself a small smile.

The Malhotra Group building stood tall and imposing against the Gurgaon skyline... glass, steel, and quiet authority.

It wasn't just an office.

It was a statement.

Aarohi stepped out of the car first, already slipping into her work persona: composed, focused, untouchable.

Naina followed, adjusting her bag, her energy shifting but not dimming. Kabir came last, locking the car before falling into step beside them.

They entered together.

Always together.

Inside, the atmosphere shifted immediately.

Conversations were softer. Movements sharper. Everyone seemed aware of being watched, even when they weren't.

"Good morning, Aarohi," someone greeted.

"Morning."

"Hi, Naina!"

"Hey!"

Kabir nodded at a few colleagues; his expression easy but observant.

Despite working in different departments, they moved through the space with a shared familiarity, like threads of the same story woven into different patterns.

Aarohi headed toward the content and strategy wing.

Naina turned toward HR.

Kabir headed toward product and operations.

But not before Naina briefly grabbed Aarohi's wrist.

"Lunch together?" she asked.

Aarohi nodded. "If I'm alive."

"You will be," Kabir said. "I'll make sure of it."

Naina smiled, satisfied, before letting go.

By mid-morning, Aarohi was already buried in work.

Deadlines, edits, meetings.

Her world narrowed to words, structure, precision.

She preferred it that way.

Control was easier than uncertainty.

Across the building, Naina was navigating a different kind of chaos—people, complaints, conversations that required more patience than logic.

And Kabir?

Kabir noticed things.

He always did.

The way teams interacted. The unspoken hierarchies. The subtle tension that ran beneath polished professionalism.

It was almost instinctive for him.

By lunch, they regrouped in the cafeteria, same table, same routine.

Naina dropped into her seat with a dramatic sigh. "If one more person asks me to 'mediate a misunderstanding,' I'm quitting."

"You say that every week," Aarohi said.

"One day, I'll mean it."

Kabir smirked. "No, you won't."

Naina glared at both. "I need new friends."

"No, you don't," they said again, in sync.

She paused... then laughed.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I don't."

Aarohi finally relaxed, just a little.

Kabir leaned back in his chair, watching them both.

For a moment, everything felt... steady.

Safe.

Like nothing could really go wrong.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because none of them noticed how quickly things can change
when the right people walk into your life, and everything you thought was stable...
isn't.