The next few days felt… different.
Not dramatically.
Not obviously.
But subtly—
Everything had shifted.
Anika noticed it first.
It wasn't in big actions.
It was in small things.
Like how her coffee would already be on her desk in the morning.
She never saw who kept it there.
But she knew.
Like how meetings that used to feel like battles…
Now felt calmer.
Arman didn't interrupt her anymore.
Didn't challenge every point.
Instead—
He listened.
And when he spoke—
It wasn't to prove her wrong.
It was to build on what she said.
And the strangest part?
He never mentioned it.
Not once.
One afternoon—
Anika was struggling with a design modification.
She stared at the screen, slightly frustrated.
"This doesn't make sense…"
A voice behind her—
"You're overcomplicating it."
She didn't turn.
"I'm not."
"You are."
Now she looked back.
Arman stood there, hands in his pockets.
Calm as always.
"Then explain," she challenged.
He stepped closer, leaning slightly toward her screen.
"This section—" he pointed,
"you're trying to balance aesthetics and cost."
"Yes."
"Drop the symmetry."
She frowned.
"That'll affect the look."
"Not if you adjust the angle here."
He moved the mouse slightly.
Made a small change.
Anika stared at the screen.
Then at him.
"…That actually works."
"I know."
She rolled her eyes.
"Don't start."
A faint smirk.
"I didn't."
Silence.
But a comfortable one.
Then Anika said softly,
"You didn't have to help."
"I know."
"Then why did you?"
Arman looked at her.
"For the project."
She gave him a look.
"Liar."
His lips curved slightly.
But he didn't deny it.
That evening—
Rain started again.
Soft.
Steady.
Anika stood near the window, watching it.
Lost in thought.
"Still like the rain?"
She smiled faintly.
Without turning—
"Yes."
Arman stepped beside her.
Not too close.
But close enough.
"It calms things," she said quietly.
"For you."
"For you too?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"Sometimes."
They stood there.
Watching the rain.
No arguments.
No tension.
Just silence.
Shared.
After a moment—
Anika spoke again.
"You've changed."
Arman glanced at her.
"No, I haven't."
"You have."
"How?"
"You're… less annoying."
He raised an eyebrow.
"That's your compliment?"
"That's the best you're getting."
A small pause.
Then—
"Don't get used to it," she added.
His expression softened slightly.
"Too late."
She looked at him.
And for a moment—
They both smiled.
Naturally.
Without effort.
And that's when it became real.
Not the fights.
Not the tension.
Not even the attraction.
But this—
These small moments.
These quiet conversations.
These unnoticed changes.
Because sometimes—
Love doesn't start with grand gestures.
It starts with little things.