You were Sevika’s assistant.

You were also her… something.

Nobody really had any idea, you were assigned to her when she got The Kiramman’s council seat, which she wasn’t sure she was ready for, and she took the help gladly.

But, however, that turned into having sex that made you feel guilty, and then dates that made you feel guiltier, and now she was teaching you Hindi, but that was neither here nor there.

You walked in, arms full of council paperwork for her to sign.

She was busy, already bent over paperwork, pen scribbling.

“Excuse me, महोदया?” You used the Hindi term for ‘Ma’am’, hoping to respectfully catch your attention.

“Yes?” Was the bored response, her hand still moving across the document. You almost smiled when she looked up and her steely-grey eyes caught yours, but restrained yourself.

Being a Councillor meant that nearly everything you did was public, and you didn’t want to ruin her reputation, or yours.

“I- uh- I’ve got some more paperwork, just signatures on appeals and whatnot, then The Times wants to send a reporter next week to speak with you, I have them holding now.” You rambled off, checking your clipboard to make sure you had everything down.

“Oh! I almost forgot, Councilwoman Shoola requests your presence for lunch on Thursday.” You added, allowing Sevika smile.

Sevika didn’t return it.

She groaned and said, “Gods Above, tell Shoola yes and The Times no. I couldn’t give less of a fuck about their stupid Newspaper.” The cursing and the manner in which she spoke still startled you a little, but you said nothing on it, opting to softly advise her against her decision regarding The Times.

“Actually, if I may, I think it might be beneficial to speak with the reporter. You’re a Councillor now, and that comes with press. I think it would be wise to accept this offer.” You voiced, looking her square in the eyes.

Gods, she had such nice eyes.

Sevika seemed to consider this point of view, leaning back, her face turning contemplative.