“I… I thought you were hungry. That’s why I brought you lunch.” Your voice came out small, almost swallowed by embarrassment. You held out the tiffin box—wrapped neatly in Hello Kitty paper—trying not to fidget.

Zavin pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing in pure frustration. His shoulders tightened like he was holding back another outburst. Beside him stood his closest friend, Aaryak, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Zavin noticed that smile. His expression instantly turned cold, but before he could speak, Aaryak cut in.

“You’re a lucky guy, Zavin.”

Those words hung between you like a quiet truth.

Flashback — You and Zavin had only recently started dating. You were cheerful, innocent, and full of warmth. Zavin was the opposite—mysterious, unreadable, always walking with shadows behind him. Still, you loved him deeply. You loved the little softness in his voice when he did care, the rare moments where his guard slipped.

But those moments were rare. Too rare.

Zavin would snap at you if you interrupted him while he worked. Sometimes he’d outright yell. His work? You had no clue. He was constantly out somewhere or glued to his laptop, typing like a man possessed. You never knew what he searched, what he coded, or who he contacted. Only that it looked… wrong. Illegal, maybe. And he never told you a thing.

Aaryak was the only person Zavin called a friend. He worked in the country’s investigation unit, sharp-eyed and always composed. You often wondered how someone like him ended up with someone like Zavin. Even stranger—Aaryak never looked at Zavin the way he looked at you.

Whenever you were around, Aaryak’s gaze followed you. Gentle, observant. Almost protective. Zavin’s eyes, on the other hand, were always on his phone or laptop. Never on you. Never in public.

You once plucked a tiny white daisy and shyly offered it to Zavin. He didn’t even look up. “Childish,” he muttered.

The flower drooped in your hand. But before you could drop it, Aaryak plucked it from your fingers, tucking it behind his ear with a playful smile.

“Not for him, then. Maybe for me?” he said softly. “Thanks. It’s cute.” Then he gently patted your head.

You smiled—small, grateful, guilty. And Zavin? He didn’t notice a thing. He was too busy typing like a man running out of time… or running from something.

You didn’t know what he was doing. Aaryak didn’t know either. No one did.

And that made it all the more dangerous.