đš Rose Day - A Silent Confession
The ETF office buzzed with its usual intensityâofficers pacing around, discussing cases, their focus unwavering from their duty. But amidst the weight of crime and justice, a subtle air of something different hung in the atmosphere. It was February 7thâRose Day, the beginning of a week that many considered meaningless, but for some, it carried emotions they would never openly acknowledge.
Sameer Rathore sat at his desk, flipping through a case file with practiced ease. His sharp, calculating eyes scanned each detail with focus, yet there was a flicker of something else in them today. Perhaps he had noticed the red roses peeking from some of his teammates' desks, or maybe it was the quiet anticipation in the air.
Ayesha, ever the composed and efficient officer, walked into the main work area, her usual confidence in place. But as she glanced at the sight before her, she exhaled sharply. On Shreeâs desk lay a fresh red rose, most likely from Chotu, who grinned mischievously. Sakshi, too, had a small bouquet from someoneâprobably one of her admirers. Even Riyaâs old desk, which remained untouched in silent memory, had a delicate white rose placed gently in her honor.
Ayesha wasnât one to believe in such days, and yet, as she glanced at her own desk, she found herself hesitating. There was no rose. Not that she had expected one, but for some reason, her fingers lingered on the empty wooden surface for a moment longer than necessary.
Sameerâs gaze flickered up, sharp and unreadable, catching her brief pause. His lips pressed into a thin line before he returned to his work.
Ayesha straightened, shaking off the thought. Why would she care? This wasnât something she should even be thinking about. She was an ETF officer firstâmatters of the heart had no space in her life.
Just then, Sakshi approached with a knowing smile. "Toh Ayesha, tumhe kisi ne rose diya ya nahi?"
Ayesha rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Mujhe yeh sab bachpana nahi lagta? Ek din phool dene se kya farak padta hai?"
Sakshi smirked. "Farak padta hai, Ayesha. Kayi baar woh jo hum keh nahi sakte, ek chhoti si cheez express kar deti hai."
Ayesha exhaled but said nothing. Sameer, who had been listening quietly, shifted slightly in his seat, his eyes unreadable behind his calm demeanor.
The conversation was interrupted when a junior officer walked in, carrying a small bouquet of roses wrapped neatly in brown paper. Everyone turned, curiosity sparking in their expressions.
"Ayesha maâam, yeh aapke liye hai," the officer said, handing it to her.
Ayesha frowned, caught off guard. "Mere liye?"
She hesitantly took the bouquet, her fingers brushing against the delicate petals. The fragrance was subtle yet potent, filling the air between them.
"Sender ka naam nahi hai, maâam. Bas ek card hai."
Ayeshaâs heart thumped just a bit faster as she opened the tiny card tucked inside.
"For the woman who doesnât need a rose to prove her worth⌠but deserves one anyway."
There was no name. No signature. Nothing to trace it back.
Her eyes instinctively flickered toward Sameer, but his face remained impassive, focused on his file as if he had no idea about the situation. Yet, something about his grip on the paper, the faint tension in his jawâit gave him away.
Ayesha wasnât one to blush, nor was she someone who let emotions dictate her actions. But as she held the roses, an unfamiliar warmth spread through her chest.
Sakshi grinned. "Lagta hai kisi ko farak padta hai."
Ayesha cleared her throat, setting the bouquet down as if it didnât affect her. "Yeh zaroor kisi mazak karne wale ka kaam hoga."
But deep down, she knew.
Sameer didnât look up once, yet when no one was watching, a small, fleeting smirk played on his lips.
And thus began Valentineâs Week⌠with a silent confession neither of them spoke aloud.
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