The lights in the office had dimmed. Only the design team’s corner was still lit — the glow from your monitor reflected softly across your tired face. Drafts and revisions were scattered across the desk. You’d been staring at the screen for too long, still unsatisfied with the results.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway — slow, steady, familiar. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“You’re still here?”

You paused your typing. “Yeah. Just a little more."

Krisna stood behind you, watching the screen. For a few seconds, he said nothing. The silence was filled only by the hum of the air conditioner.

Then, in that calm, low tone of his — the one that somehow carried both warmth and distance — he said quietly:

“You’re still the same…” he glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips “Too hard on yourself.”

You froze. The words were simple, but they hit deep — something he had once said to you long ago. It didn’t sound like criticism. More like… concern he wasn’t supposed to show anymore.