(At dinner)
Steam curled up from Arina's plate, forgotten as she studied the man across from her. Reyansh wasn't distant tonight—just distracted, as if his thoughts had wandered somewhere she couldn't follow. The soft light of the dining room brushed against the sharp lines of his face, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered what occupied his mind so deeply.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than usual, almost thoughtful.
"Manav's coming tomorrow," he said, his voice steady. "He's my business partner… and an old friend."
Arina looked up, her fingers pausing around the edge of her glass.
> "Manav?" she repeated softly, tasting the unfamiliar name. "You've never mentioned him before...what's he like?"
Reyansh leaned back slightly, a faint smirk brushing his lips.
> "You don't have to feel pressured, Arina. Just make whatever you want — he eats everything."
She smiled, a shy curve tugging at her lips.
> "I just want to make a good impression," she said quietly. "It's the first time I'm meeting someone close to you."
His eyes softened at that — barely, but enough for her to notice.
> "He can be… annoying," Reyansh said finally. "Gets on people's nerves without even trying. But don't worry too much about it."
Arina laughed softly, her tone teasing but gentle.
"There's someone who can get on your nerves? Now I'm really excited to meet him."
Reyansh shook his head with a faint smirk before excusing himself for his study.
Once he left, Arina stayed back in the living room, the hum of silence wrapping around her.
She sank into the couch, her gaze unfocused on the dark screen of the television.
Her mind had already begun to weave threads — Manav.
In the original story she had read ,Manav was nothing like Reyansh.
Reyansh was cold — both outside and in. His darkness was restrained, hidden behind calm precision.
Manav, however, was his mirror image turned inside out.
Playful. Charming. The kind of man who smiled while setting traps.
He laughed easily, but his laughter never reached his eyes.
Behind that mask lived a man with no warmth — one who struck when least expected.
If Reyansh's darkness was control, Manav's was chaos.
He was the embodiment of the saying: revenge is the dish best served cold.
He didn't rush his vengeance — he savored it. Calculated it. Enjoyed every quiet moment before his enemy even knew he was in danger.
For someone who had always been close to a man like Reyansh, his end hadn't been tragic.
Arina exhaled, her fingers brushing the spine of her book absently.
She wondered — how close were fiction and reality about to get?
---
"Some names carry shadows long before their presence arrives."