The next morning, Arin woke up with an odd sense of contentment. It was a sensation he wasn’t accustomed to—something light, something warm. He had spent years training himself to be emotionally detached, to observe rather than participate. And yet, after last night, he felt different.
He had laughed. He had felt like he belonged.
And it had nothing to do with his mission.
As he stepped out onto his balcony, he caught sight of Astha doing the same. She was sipping her coffee, glasses slightly askew, her hair still a bit messy from sleep. She didn’t notice him at first—she was staring at the sky, lost in thought.
“You’re up early,” Arin commented.
Astha glanced at him, unimpressed. “You say that like it’s a choice. I have a job, a teenager, and a coffee addiction that demands sacrifice.”
Arin smiled. “A noble cause.”
She took another sip before looking at him properly. “So, how does it feel to be a survivor of our legendary movie roast night?”
“I think I need time to process it,” he admitted. “There was… a lot of unexpected emotional trauma.”
Astha’s lips quirked into a smile. “Good. You’re learning.”
Before Arin could respond, Shanaya’s voice echoed from inside. “Mom! Where’s my history book? And also, why does the cat look like he’s planning something?”
Astha sighed, rubbing her temple. “The book is where you last threw it, and the cat has always been plotting your downfall. This is not new information.”
Shanaya appeared in the doorway, looking at Arin with interest. “Oh hey, he’s still here.”
“I live here,” Arin pointed out.
Shanaya shrugged. “That remains to be seen. The real test of your endurance is surviving a week of us.”
Astha nodded sagely. “She’s not wrong.”
Arin leaned against the railing, studying them both. “And what happens if I pass this test?”
Astha took another sip of tea, her voice utterly serious. “Then, congratulations. You get to carry grocery bags indefinitely.”
Arin chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
As the morning sun bathed the balcony in golden light, Arin felt something strange settle in his chest. Something that had nothing to do with time or duty.
Something that felt a lot like home.
Leave a Reply