Kaha's POV
I said his name.
And he didn't flinch.
Didn't make a joke.
Didn't even look smug.
He just… answered. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Like I hadn't built walls taller than my voice just to keep that moment from happening.
Now I'm sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket like it's my only personality trait, chewing on eggs I didn't expect to taste like anything.
But they do.
Warm. Simple.
Like someone made them with the intention that I'd eat them.
He's not looking at me. Not watching for a reaction. Just cleaning up like it's a Tuesday and not a milestone.
I don't know what to do with that.
Most people in my life either disappeared when I cried…
Or told me I was being dramatic.
Swarna didn't say anything. Didn't try to fix me.
He just stayed.
That's… new.
I glance at him.
He's arguing with Kanaka over who gets the last bite of toast.
"I made it," he says. "You didn't even help. You sat there licking your foot."
Kanaka meows in protest.
He sighs dramatically. "Fine. You get the corner piece. But no judging my cooking."
I almost smile. Almost.
He sees me watching and pauses mid-toast-hand-off.
"Want more?"
I shake my head. No.
But I don't look away.
He doesn't either.
There's something in the way he looks at me now.
Not pity. Not curiosity.
Just… presence.
That's the word.
He's here.
And for once, I'm not afraid of that.