"What are you doing?"
At her question, Veer's smile brightened slightly. He sat down in front of her again, fingers moving through the flowers with easy familiarity.
"Choosing flowers for the wedding, sweetheart."
Kaya's gaze drifted back to the bouquet in his hands, then slowly returned to his face.
...
She didn't say anything.
What could she say, really?
Ask him why he was so calm? Why he acted as if nothing strange had happened at all?
No. That would be pointless. Idiotic, even.
So Kaya remained silent, watching the flowers as Veer continued tying them together—each knot neat, each color carefully placed—while the room stayed unnervingly, painfully normal
Kaya shifted slightly in her seat, her gaze lingering on the bouquet before lifting to Veer.
"Why… are you the one choosing the flowers?" she asked quietly.
Veer's fingers paused for a moment. Then he smiled, the kind that carried memory rather than amusement.
