Mira didn't like walking into things unprepared. If she was going to take charge of the club's public relations and organizational tasks, she needed to understand exactly what they had—and what they didn't.
So, she spent the evening combing through old university archives, past club announcements, and whatever scraps of information she could find online about the greenhouse. Then, she listed everything in a structured, easy-to-follow document. Tasks were categorized, missing details were highlighted, and responsibilities were assigned logically. It wasn't just a to-do list; it was a clear roadmap.
By the time she finished, it was well past midnight, but the effort was worth it.
Since the club only met once a week, she couldn't afford to waste time waiting for casual discussions. And Adrian—being Adrian—wasn't exactly the type to linger for unnecessary conversations. They shared one class, so she picked the most strategic moment: right after their Global Tech Ethics lecture, before he could disappear.
As students packed their things, Mira stepped up to him. "Adrian, do you have time later? Fifteen minutes is enough."
He stopped mid-motion, adjusting his bag, then looked at her—not with irritation, just assessing.
She held up a neatly clipped document. "I prepared an overview of the club's current state and what we need to work on. I'd like your input before bringing it to the others."
A short pause. Then, a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Mira smiled. "Great. Library, second floor?"
No verbal confirmation, but he didn't reject it either. That was enough.
Mira arrived early, as expected. When Adrian walked in, he spotted her already seated at a quiet table, a notebook open, a pen in hand, and the document placed neatly in front of her. She was prepared, not just with notes but with the calm, professional energy of someone who knew exactly what she was doing.
He sat down without a word. She slid the paper toward him.
As he read through the list, Mira observed him carefully. Adrian's face didn't give much away, but she caught the small shifts—the slight raise of his brow at how precisely things were categorized, the flicker of acknowledgment when he saw that the technical parts were already marked for verification rather than assumption.
He expected to find gaps, inefficiencies, unnecessary details. Instead, everything was structured in a way that left little room for correction.
She had worked fast. And she had worked well.
Adrian picked up a pen and started marking the checklist—ticking off what the club already had, underlining the missing elements, and noting which tasks he could personally oversee. He didn't comment, didn't ask questions. Just worked through it with the same quiet efficiency he applied to everything.
When he finished, he set the paper down, expression unreadable as always.
Mira took it back, scanning his notes.
Then, she smiled. "Thanks for your help."
She gathered her things, then looked back at him. "Can I have your email? I'll send over a detailed plan once I finalize everything."
For a second, Adrian just stared at her, as if surprised by how quickly she moved from planning to execution. Then, he pulled out a card from his bag and slid it toward her.
Mira took it with a nod, then stood up. "See you at the greenhouse."
And just like that, she was gone.
❧
Midnoon bathed the greenhouse in golden light, filtering through the high-tech glass panels designed to maximize sunlight for the rare plants inside. The automatic watering system hummed softly in the background, releasing precise mist for each species, while the subtle scent of damp earth and greenery filled the space.
Mira was there, kneeling near a collection of delicate orchids, her camera in hand. She had set up a sturdy tripod, adjusted the lens carefully, and was now completely absorbed in her work. Macro photography required stillness, precision, and patience. She leaned in just close enough, her fingers steady on the camera, her breath controlled. Even the smallest movement could ruin the shot, so she remained motionless—like a statue—waiting for the perfect moment.
Adrian entered the greenhouse, his steps soundless on the tiled floor. He had come to check the nutrient levels of some of the more sensitive specimens—one of the tasks he handled as part of his research. But as soon as he stepped inside, he saw her.
Mira hadn't noticed him. Not even a little. Her entire world was reduced to the tiny petal she was capturing, her focus unshakable. Her expression was calm, intensely concentrated, eyes locked through the viewfinder. A slight movement of her fingers, a tiny shift of the lens, adjusting ever so slightly for depth and clarity.
Adrian stood there for a moment, watching.
Most people, when observed, had an awareness of being watched—even if they didn't see it directly. They'd glance up, shift their posture, become self-conscious.
Not her.
She was entirely in the moment, completely immersed.
And for some reason, Adrian found himself lingering just a second longer than necessary before quietly walking toward his work.
The greenhouse remained silent except for the occasional hum of the ventilation system and the rhythmic drip of the automatic watering system. Mira and Adrian worked separately, yet in sync, each immersed in their own tasks.
Mira had carefully planned her shooting sequence, mapping out which areas to photograph first according to the watering schedule. Some plants were misted every fifteen minutes, others required a more controlled release of nutrients. If she wanted clear shots without water droplets interfering, she had to move strategically.
She moved smoothly from section to section, adjusting her tripod, crouching low for a better angle, and occasionally holding her breath to stabilize the camera. Every now and then, she'd check her shots, ensuring the details were crisp—the intricate veins of a leaf, the soft fuzz on a tiny sprout, the rich texture of a petal.
Adrian, a few meters away, quietly checked the nutrient distribution for some of the rarer species. He moved with precision, recording data on his tablet, adjusting settings where needed. He didn't look at Mira often, but he was aware of her presence.
After a while, Mira finished shooting one section and took a moment to review her photos. As she scrolled through them, satisfied with the results, she glanced up—and that's when she noticed Adrian.
"Oh, hi," she greeted casually, offering a small, warm smile.
He gave her a barely noticeable nod before returning to his task. Mira, unbothered, simply went back to her photography.
Time passed quietly.
Then, after nearly an hour, the silence was broken.
"Our class starts in five minutes. Aren't you coming?"
Mira froze for a second.
That voice.
She turned her head in surprise. Adrian was standing near the exit, looking directly at her.
For a moment, she just blinked at him, processing what he had just said. Of all things, she never expected him to remind her of class.
"Oh—right! I have class! Thank you so much for reminding me!"
In a flurry, she scrambled to pack her camera and tripod, stuffing everything into her backpack as quickly as possible.
"I think we'll have to run if we want to make it on time," she added, slinging her bag over her shoulder before dashing past him like the wind.
Adrian didn't move immediately.
He just watched her go.
It was only after a second that he realized—there was a faint smile on his lips.
❧
Adrian's eyes scanned the email, his expression unchanged at first. But as he read through the timeline and progress report, there was a barely perceptible shift—his brows lifted ever so slightly, the faintest flicker of something between surprise and approval crossing his face.
Subject: Meeting Request – Plant Portfolio Review & Confirmation
Dear Adrian,
I hope you're doing well.
The plant portfolio pictures have been completed, and I'd like to review them with you to confirm each plant's name and any special warnings or care instructions that should be noted. Since accuracy is crucial, I'd appreciate your input before finalizing everything.
Attached is the updated timeline and progress report. Within just one week, we've made significant strides in the project, as outlined below:
Task
Status
Notes
Complete plant portfolio photography
✅ Done
Natural light used, no flash for sensitive plants
Initial name identification
✅ Done
Cross-referenced with available records
Special warnings & care instructions
⏳ In Progress
Requires expert confirmation
Club website structure draft
✅ Done
Ready for content input
Tagging system proposal
✅ Done
Design and materials suggested
Public awareness campaign framework
✅ Done
Social media & university channels planned
To finalize the portfolio and ensure accuracy, I'd like to schedule a meeting with you and your direct consultant at any time over the weekend that works for you. Please let me know your availability.
Looking forward to your confirmation.
Best regards,
Mira
Only a week had passed since the club's first meeting, yet the project had moved forward with an efficiency that felt almost pre-planned. Mira had taken charge without hesitation, structuring everything with precision, following through on every detail. It wasn't just the speed—it was how seamlessly things were falling into place.
She had been in the greenhouse every day, camera in hand, organizing, checking, moving from one task to another. Always rushing somewhere, always immersed in something. Adrian had noticed it in passing, though he hadn't thought much of it. But now, seeing the results laid out so clearly, he found himself considering her more than he meant to.
A brief pause. Then, without further thought, he opened his calendar and began typing his reply.
❧