Newlywed

Zamian woke up to find Mira still sleeping beside him. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden hue over the room. The peacefulness of the moment was almost surreal, a stark contrast to the usual tension that accompanied his every waking hour. He quietly took out his phone from the nightstand, careful not to disturb the serene figure beside him. With practiced efficiency, he decided to order breakfast and some clothes for himself. As his fingers danced over the screen, selecting items from the menu and the wardrobe suggestions, he allowed himself a rare moment of contemplation.

He wasn't used to this—waking up next to someone, sharing such an intimate space. For as long as he could remember, his mornings had been solitary, dominated by the rigid structure of his routine. But now, with Mira so close, there was an unfamiliar warmth, a softness that he found both comforting and unsettling. His gaze drifted to her again, her face half-buried in the pillow, hair splayed out in gentle waves. Even in sleep, she seemed vulnerable, her defenses down in a way he rarely saw when she was awake. Zamian wondered how she would react if she knew he was watching her like this. The thought brought a small, almost imperceptible smile to his lips.

After completing the task, he placed his phone back on the nightstand, intending to rest a bit longer. He let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes, but just as he began to relax, he felt an unexpected pressure against his stomach. Startled, he stilled, his body stilled as his mind quickly analyzed the situation. It took him a moment to realize what had happened—Mira had unconsciously moved closer, her arm now draped across him in a loose, almost possessive hold.

He turned slightly, careful not to wake her, and saw that she was still deeply asleep. Her face was as peaceful as ever, lips slightly parted as she breathed in and out with rhythmic ease. Zamian found himself hesitating, caught in a rare moment of indecision. He wasn't accustomed to this kind of closeness, not in such a personal, vulnerable setting. His instinct was to gently remove her arm, to put some distance between them. But something stopped him—a small voice in the back of his mind, urging him to let her be.

It was strange how much trust she must have in him, to feel safe enough to sleep so soundly by his side. He wasn't sure if it was trust or simply exhaustion, but either way, it was something he didn't want to disrupt. So, he stayed still, letting her continue her slumber undisturbed, his own body slowly relaxing into the unfamiliar warmth of her touch.

Moments later, he felt her beginning to stir. The change was subtle at first, a slight twitch of her fingers, a shift in her breathing. Then, as if sensing his gaze, her eyes fluttered open, the last remnants of sleep slowly fading as she adjusted to the waking world. Zamian turned to face her just as she woke up fully, her eyes meeting his in a moment of mutual surprise.

"Stay," Zamian whispered, his voice gentle but firm. The word hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

Mira froze, her heart racing as the reality of their closeness hit her. She felt a surge of emotions—confusion, vulnerability, a strange mix of comfort and anxiety. It wasn't like her to let her guard down like this, to allow herself to be so exposed. But something about the way Zamian looked at her, the softness in his usually cold voice, made her want to stay exactly where she was. It was a crazy idea, she knew that much. Staying here, letting herself get closer to him—it was reckless, dangerous even. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

As the silence stretched on, Mira began to wonder if she had made the right decision in suggesting they stay at her apartment. It felt like a crazy idea in hindsight, one that was driven more by impulse than reason. What had she been thinking? Her apartment was small, personal, filled with her life's little details—things she usually kept hidden from others. Inviting Zamian here, into her space, into her life, felt like crossing a line she wasn't sure she was ready to cross.

Before they could fully relax or delve deeper into their thoughts, the doorbell rang, breaking the moment like a sudden gust of wind. The sharp sound seemed out of place in the quiet of the morning, jarring them both out of the delicate bubble they had been in. Mira shifted in bed, the spell of the moment broken, as Zamian got up to answer the door. For a moment, she wondered if he had ordered something or if it was time for him to head back to work, but she quickly pushed the thought aside. Whatever it was, it wasn't important—not compared to the strange mix of emotions she was feeling.

As he walked away, she felt a strange mix of relief and curiosity. She couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if the doorbell hadn't rung. Would they have stayed there, caught in that shared silence, or would one of them have broken the moment, pulled away? She didn't know, and the not knowing made her heart race even faster.

Dismissing the thought, she quickly dashed to the bathroom to freshen up for work. The cold water on her face was a welcome distraction, helping her to clear her head and focus on the day ahead. But even as she brushed her teeth and fixed her hair, her thoughts kept drifting back to Zamian, to the the way he had whispered "stay" as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

After getting ready, Mira stepped out of the room dressed in a dark blue matching suit, her hair neatly tied in a professional ponytail. The suit was one of her favorites, a gift from her grandfather—a man who had always encouraged her to be strong, independent, and professional. But as she looked in the mirror, she couldn't help but wonder if she was trying too hard to be something she wasn't. The suit was a shield, a way to keep people at arm's length. But with Zamian, it felt like she was trying to hide behind something that didn't quite fit anymore.

She noticed Zamian sitting on the sofa with two neatly arranged bags on the dining table. He looked relaxed, more at ease than she had ever seen him. It was strange seeing him like this, in her space, looking so comfortable as if he belonged here. The sight made her heart skip a beat.

"There is breakfast on the table. I will go shower now," Zamian said, standing up to leave.

Mira nodded and walked over to the dining table. As she began to arrange everything, she headed to the kitchen to grab some plates. While doing so, she noticed a small card tucked under one of the bags. It read, *Boss, I tried to buy the most normal food ever.*

Mira froze, wondering if Zamian had specifically requested "normal" food. She pondered for a moment, then brushed off the thought as she continued setting the table. What did normal even mean in a situation like this? Was it supposed to be a joke, or was it a reflection of how out of the ordinary this entire situation was? She wasn't sure, and the ambiguity of it all made her feel slightly uneasy.

Just as she finished, a figure entered the room, also dressed in a dark blue suit. Mira's eyes widened, instantly recognizing that it was, of course, Zamian. He always had his ways—his uncanny ability to blend into any situation, to become a part of the environment without losing any of his commanding presence. It was a skill she both admired and found unnerving.

Without saying a word, he sat down and began to eat silently. The quiet between them was heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions that neither of them seemed ready to voice. Mira, following her usual habit taught by her grandpa, offered a silent prayer before starting her meal. It was a small act, one she did out of respect and gratitude, but today it felt different—more meaningful somehow, as if it was a way of grounding herself in the midst of the strange new reality she found herself in.

As she did so, a realization hit her: this situation felt strangely intimate, almost like they were newlyweds. The thought was ridiculous, of course—they were far from that. But the way they were sitting here, side by side, eating breakfast in the quiet of the morning, it felt like something out of a life she had never imagined for herself. Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly bent her head to hide her expression from Zamian. The thought made her heart race, a mix of fear and excitement swirling in her chest.

"Newlywed," Mira whispered in a low tone, almost as if she was testing the word, seeing how it felt on her tongue.