Chapter 12 - Late Nights & Stolen Glances

Adhya had never worked this hard in her life—or at least that's what it felt like.

The Gucci project was demanding every ounce of her energy.

She was drowning in sketches, fabric swatches, tech packs, and mood boards, her small office cramped with designs sprawled all over the desk and even the floor.

At one point, she tried balancing her laptop on the only empty space left, but it slipped right off, nearly crashing to the ground.

That was the final straw.

With a frustrated groan, she marched straight into Reyan's office without knocking.

Reyan barely looked up from his laptop when she stormed in. "What now?"

Adhya dramatically threw her arms in the air. "I cannot work in that tiny excuse of an office! Do you have any idea how much space I need?!"

Reyan leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes scanning her messily tied-up hair, the ink smudges on her fingers, and the way her oversized sketchbook was half falling out of her arms.

She looked like a storm that had lost all direction.

He sighed. "Then use mine."

She blinked. "Wait, what?"

"You can work here."

Adhya's mouth fell open. Was she hallucinating?

"But—but this is your office!"

"And?" Reyan arched a brow. "You said you needed space."

She gawked at him for a moment before breaking into a triumphant grin. "See? I knew you weren't a total robot!"

He ignored her. "I have a meeting. Don't turn this place into a disaster zone."

Adhya mock saluted. "Aye aye, bossman."

He shot her a look before leaving.

She, of course, did exactly what he told her not to do.

By the time Reyan returned a few hours later, his office was unrecognizable.

Adhya was sitting on the floor, completely immersed in her work.

Design sketches were scattered around her, color palettes lay in a messy heap, and fabric swatches were pinned to large boards.

Her hair was falling out of its bun, a pencil was tucked behind her ear, and she had smudged a line of blue ink on her cheek without realizing it.

She was muttering to herself, flipping between two sketches. "No, this shade is too deep... but if I lighten it, will it lose the boldness? Ugh!"

Reyan froze in the doorway.

For the first time, he saw her not as the loud, mischievous girl who annoyed him constantly—but as a designer, a true artist in her zone.

And something about it intrigued him.

She looked passionate. Focused. Beautiful.

He cleared his throat. "You made my office look like a factory."

Adhya snapped her head up, blinking as if she'd forgotten where she was.

"Oops." She grinned sheepishly. "But, to be fair, your office was way too neat before. Now it looks like a creative genius is at work."

Reyan crossed his arms. "Right. A messy genius."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

He shook his head, but the ghost of a smirk played at his lips.

The hours flew by, and before they knew it, it was late at night.

Adhya was still deep in her work when she smelled something delicious.

She looked up to see a pizza box on the table, along with a bottle of her favorite cold coffee.

She blinked in surprise. "Wait... is that...?"

Reyan, who was casually leaning against his desk, nodded. "Your favorite. Figured you wouldn't eat unless I forced you."

Her heart skipped a beat.

Not because of the food.

But because... he noticed.

"You ordered this for me?" she asked, her voice softer than usual.

He rolled his eyes. "Stop making a big deal out of it. Eat."

"But I'm busy—"

"Eat. First." His tone left no room for argument.

With a dramatic sigh, she got up and took a slice.

And just like that, her energy came back in full force.

She chattered non-stop while eating, going on and on about color theories, runway trends, and why Gucci needed to hire her immediately.

Reyan, surprisingly, didn't shut her up.

Instead, he listened.

And every now and then, when she wasn't looking, he stole glances at her.

Eventually, exhaustion won.

Adhya barely realized when she curled up on the couch, her sketches still in hand, her breath evening out into soft, sleepy sighs.

Somewhere in her half-asleep state, she felt something warm.

A strong arm lifting her up.

A firm chest against her cheek.

She mumbled something incoherent, but didn't wake up.

Then, she was gently placed back down onto the couch, and a warm coat was draped over her.

A familiar scent—his scent—wrapped around her like a cocoon.

And just before sleep fully claimed her, a single thought floated through her mind.

"Reyan Malhotra is confusing as hell."