"Black suit? No. Blue suit? …no."
I stood in front of my wardrobe longer than necessary.
"Charcoal suit? Yes… perfect."
I paused, studying myself for a second.
"Although I look good in anything… this one just—" I stopped mid-sentence. "—this one works."
Why was I even thinking this much?
Because my first interview today was with her.
Aurelia Vale.
And for some reason… she didn't feel like a stranger.
She felt—
I exhaled.
Home?
That didn't make sense.
"Am I dressing up for her?" I muttered, almost immediately shaking my head. "No. No way. I'm dressing for myself."
A pause.
"…right."
I got ready anyway.
And for the first time, I used the perfume I bought yesterday.
Shumukh perfume
Expensive. Rare.
Unnecessary.
Still, I used it.
When I reached the office, I was informed that she had already arrived.
Punctual.
+1.
Good.
I walked in, controlling every step, every expression.
When I entered the room, I made sure not to look at her directly.
Not immediately.
I greeted her in what I hoped sounded neutral. Professional.
Distant.
"Hello Miss Aurelia Vale, please have a seat."
Then she replied.
And that voice—
Soft. Clear.
It did something.
Something I didn't understand.
Why does that affect me?
She's just—
Just someone I met once.
That's all.
Right?
I sat down across from her, keeping my posture controlled, movements precise. No unnecessary gestures.
I signaled for the file.
The file I personally chose.
For her.
Because I couldn't mix professionalism with… whatever this was.
And honestly, I didn't even know what this was.
Feelings?
No.
That was too soon.
Too irrational.
When the file reached her, I noticed her attention shift completely to it. Focused.
Good.
That's how it should be.
I explained the process—because I had to. I couldn't just sit there in silence.
Still…
A thought crossed my mind.
Was I too cold?
Or just… too composed?
Before I could settle that, she spoke.
She said she had already studied the case.
I looked at her properly then.
Honest.
Without hesitation.
Interesting.
"I appreciate the concern and honesty, Miss Vale," I said. "So if I am correct, you've studied this case before. You're aware of the verdict, the sections applied, and the full proceedings?"
She nodded.
"Yes, sir."
Her voice remained steady.
"First question," I said. "Why did the killer target factory workers?"
As she began answering, I listened.
I really did.
But at the same time…
My focus kept shifting.
To her.
Her eyes.
There was something about them.
They weren't trying to hold attention.
Yet they did.
Quiet. Deep.
Like there were thoughts behind them she wasn't saying out loud.
For a moment, I wondered—
If I kept looking… would I understand her?
Or just get lost trying?
I forced my attention back.
She finished answering.
Correct.
Detailed.
Composed.
"Next question," I continued, "why the pattern?"
Again, she paused before answering.
Thought first.
Then spoke.
Controlled.
Every answer aligned. No hesitation, no panic.
Confidence without arrogance.
And that…
was rare.
She answered every question.
Not like she memorized them.
Like she understood them.
When the questions ended, so did the interview.
At least officially.
But I didn't move immediately.
She started gathering her things.
And for the first time—
I let myself look.
Properly.
Her features weren't loud.
Not something that demanded attention.
But the more I looked, the more… everything made sense.
Her nose fit her face so naturally it almost went unnoticed—but that's what completed it.
Nothing about her looked forced.
Everything just… belonged.
Her lips held a quiet expression.
Not a practiced smile.
Not an effort to impress.
And somehow, that made it more noticeable.
I had a thought—
If she actually smiled…
I looked away for a second.
Her hair fell naturally around her face. No effort, no exaggeration. And still, it framed her in a way that softened everything.
I didn't even realize when I started noticing these things.
I just did.
And her presence—
She wasn't doing anything.
Just sitting there.
And still… the room felt different.
Quieter.
Focused.
Does she even know what she does to a room?
Or—
what she's doing to me?
A faint thought crossed my mind.
How long have I been looking?
…too long.
And somehow—
not long enough.
We both stood up.
Handshake.
Professional.
Controlled.
But something stayed.
As she turned to leave—
A thought stopped me.
Not planned.
Not necessary.
Still—
I asked.
"Why California for law?"
The moment the question left my mouth—
I noticed it.
Her eyes.
They changed.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
Like something surfaced.
Something she didn't want to show.
She hesitated.
And that was new.
Because throughout the entire interview—
she hadn't.
Not once.
Did she notice me?
Did she recognise me?
Did I cross a line?
Why did I even ask that?
She finally spoke.
"…that's a long answer, sir."
I should have stopped there.
I didn't.
"Make it short," I said, more quietly this time. "But I genuinely want to know."
Why did I say that?
It wasn't my place.
Still—
I wanted to know.
She answered.
"Sir, I chose California because it has a strong legal system… and a reputable structure."
A perfect answer.
Clean.
Believable.
And completely—
not real.
I could tell.
There was something she wasn't saying.
I held her gaze for a moment.
"That's it?" I asked, softer now. "I don't think that's the real reason. But I won't force you to answer something personal."
A pause.
Then she nodded slightly.
We ended it there.
She smiled.
Polite.
Controlled.
And left.
I sat back down slowly.
Silence filled the room.
Did I scare her?
Did I overstep?
Or did she not tell me cause she knew who was I?
Why didn't I just let it go?
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair.
"This is ridiculous."
She's just—
I stopped.
No.
She wasn't.
Not anymore.
She was no longer just someone I met.
And that… was the problem.