(Rohan's POV)
I've always been better at listening than speaking.
At work, that makes me reliable.
In life, it makes me invisible.
I don't dislike people. I just don't know how to enter conversations without feeling like I'm interrupting something that already exists. So I stay quiet. I do my job. I keep things moving.
And for a long time, that was enough.
Until it wasn't.
---
I arrived at the office before most people again.
Not because I had extra work—but because mornings were the only time I didn't feel rushed into being someone else. No expectations. No forced conversations. Just me, the hum of systems booting up, and coffee that tasted terrible but felt familiar.
I unlocked my phone before my computer.
I didn't pretend otherwise.
Unknown:
You're up early again.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
That had become a problem lately—reacting before thinking.
Rohan:
Habit.
Unknown:
Or avoidance?
I paused.
She did that sometimes. Asked things gently but directly, like she wasn't afraid of the answer.
Rohan:
Maybe both.
A few seconds passed.
Unknown:
I get that.
And just like that, the tightness in my chest eased.
I didn't know her name.
I didn't know her face.
But she understood something about me without explanation.
That mattered more than it should have.
---
"Morning," Arjun said, sliding into the chair beside my desk with his usual careless energy.
"Morning," I replied.
He glanced at my screen. Then at my phone.
Then back at me.
"You're smiling," he said.
"I'm not."
"You absolutely are."
I looked away. "Probably tired."
Arjun laughed. "You've been tired for years. This is new."
I didn't respond.
Because if I did, I might admit that my days felt lighter lately. That I checked my phone more often than emails. That I waited—actually waited—for messages.
And that scared me.
---
Mid-morning passed quietly.
I fixed a network issue. Helped someone recover lost files. Answered questions that required logic, not emotion.
That was safe territory.
Then I stood to refill my water bottle—and saw Aanya.
She was sitting at her desk, shoulders slightly hunched, focused on her screen. Her hair was tied back loosely today, a few strands falling near her face. She tucked one behind her ear without thinking.
I slowed without meaning to.
She looked up as I passed.
Our eyes met.
"Morning," she said.
"Morning," I replied.
The exchange was simple. Ordinary.
And yet, something inside me shifted—something small but noticeable, like recognising a familiar song playing softly in the background.
I walked away irritated with myself.
Get a grip.
---
My phone buzzed again around noon.
Unknown:
Do you ever feel like you're more yourself when you're not being watched?
I leaned back in my chair.
That question didn't come from nowhere.
Rohan:
Yes.
Rohan:
I feel quieter in real life. Not inside. Just… on the outside.
There. I'd said it.
A pause.
Then—
Unknown:
That makes sense.
Unknown:
Some people keep their real voice for places that feel safe.
I swallowed.
Safe.
That word landed deeper than I expected.
---
Lunch was noisy.
Arjun talked. Someone laughed too loud. The microwave beeped angrily.
I sat there, half-present.
"You're distracted," Arjun said, pointing his fork at me.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
"Nothing important."
He studied me for a moment. "You know, you don't have to be alone all the time."
I looked at him. "I'm not alone."
He raised an eyebrow. "Then start acting like it."
I didn't argue.
Because part of me knew—he wasn't wrong.
---
The afternoon meeting was worse.
Too many voices. Too many opinions. Too little listening.
Aanya sat a few seats away.
She took notes carefully, occasionally frowning when someone spoke over her. At one point, she leaned toward Maya and whispered something. Maya nodded immediately.
I noticed because I always noticed when people weren't being heard.
The meeting ended messily, as usual.
As people stood, Aanya dropped her pen.
I picked it up instinctively.
"Thanks," she said.
"No problem."
Our fingers brushed briefly.
It wasn't dramatic.
But it wasn't nothing either.
I returned to my desk feeling oddly unsettled.
---
On the metro ride home, the city felt louder than usual.
People pushed. Phones rang. Someone argued loudly near the door.
I stood there, gripping the pole, phone heavy in my hand.
Unknown:
Long day?
I exhaled.
Rohan:
Yeah.
Unknown:
Do you want quiet or distraction?
I smiled at that.
Rohan:
Quiet.
Unknown:
Okay.
And then she didn't text for a few minutes.
She gave me space without me asking.
That meant more than constant messages ever could.
---
At home, I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling.
I thought about how different I felt when I typed to her.
More open. Less guarded.
It wasn't that I lied in real life.
I just edited myself too much.
With her, I didn't feel the need to.
Rohan:
Can I tell you something?
Unknown:
Always.
My fingers hovered.
Rohan:
I don't talk much at work. People think I'm serious. Or uninterested.
Rohan:
I'm not. I just… don't know how to be loud.
There it was.
Honest. Unfiltered.
The reply came slower this time.
Unknown:
You don't have to be loud to be meaningful.
Unknown:
Some people listen. That's rare.
I closed my eyes.
For the first time in a long while, I felt seen.
---
The next morning, Aanya looked tired.
I noticed immediately.
She rubbed her eyes while waiting for her system to load.
I walked past her desk and stopped before I could think too much.
"You okay?" I asked.
She looked surprised. Then smiled faintly.
"Didn't sleep well."
"Same," I said.
And it was true.
Not because I was unhappy.
Because my mind had been full.
---
Later, I heard Maya teasing her.
"You smile at your phone a lot these days."
Aanya denied it.
Everyone always did.
I smiled to myself.
---
That night, before sleeping, I checked my phone one last time.
Unknown:
Goodnight.
Rohan:
Goodnight.
Rohan:
Thanks for today.
Unknown:
For what?
I thought for a moment.
Rohan:
For making things feel lighter.
She replied with a simple heart emoji.
And for the first time, I didn't overthink it.
---
I didn't know who she was.
I didn't know how this would end.
But I knew this much—
Some connections don't announce themselves.
They settle quietly.
And once they do, you feel their absence before you even lose them.
---