Monday morning punched me in the face.

  Metaphorically.

  The shrill arm bred from my phone.I spped it blindly, groaning into the couch pillow.

  Across the apartment, I could hear Eira moving around — light footsteps, soft rustle of clothes.

  How she was already awake and functional, I had no idea.

  I dragged myself upright, cracking every joint in my body, and stumbled into the bathroom.

  Ten minutes, a cold shower, and two mugs of chai ter, I was almost human.

  Almost.

  I squeezed into the tiny chair in front of my battered new setup.Monitor on.Keyboard cttering.VPN login spinning.Zoom app open.

  Today was important — mandatory weekly standup with the team.

  Cameras ON.Microphones ON.Boss alert level: God Mode.

  I adjusted my headset, flinching at my reflection in the webcam — wild hair, dark circles, desperate "please don’t fire me" energy.

  Perfect.

  The meeting started.

  Small windows popped up:

  Pooja from HR (cheerful as hell at 9 a.m.).

  Manish from DevOps (already eating breakfast on camera).

  Shweta from QA (eyebrows judging everyone silently).

  My boss, Mr. Chauhan (bald, angry, caffeine-addicted).

  I muted myself and fake-smiled like my job depended on it.Because it did.

  Things were going okay at first.

  We went around the virtual room, giving boring status updates.

  "Last week completed module XYZ, no blockers.""Still waiting on client feedback.""Code merge pending."

  When it was my turn, I unmuted, voice steady.

  "Karan here. Completed migration tasks st week. No major issues. Ready for new assignments."

  Chauhan grunted approval.

  I leaned back, letting the others drone on.

  And that’s when it happened.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement.

  I turned slightly —and my soul left my body.

  Eira.

  Fully visible in the background.

  Wearing one of my pin T-shirts and jeans, barefoot, hair messy.

  Carrying...a pte.

  A pte with biscuits and chai.

  Heading straight for me like a goddamn helpful angel of destruction.

  My brain short-circuited.

  Panic flooded every cell.

  Abort mission.Abort life.

  I muted my mic again and twisted around, whisper-hissing, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

  Eira blinked innocently. "You have been working without sustenance."

  "NOT NOW!" I croaked.

  Too te.

  On the screen, I saw heads turning.

  Manish squinted. "Bro... was that a chick?"

  Shweta raised an eyebrow. "Karan, you’re not alone?"

  Pooja gasped. "You didn’t tell us you had company!"

  Chauhan leaned forward, face filling half the screen.Expression: suspicion.exe loading.

  "Is that your wife?" he asked bluntly.

  I died inside.

  "No!" I squeaked. "No wife! No girlfriend! That’s my — uh — cousin! Visiting! From vilge!"

  Eira tilted her head, confused.

  Then, before I could stop her, she leaned into frame, smiling politely.

  "Greetings," she said in perfect, formal English.

  Dead silence.

  Even Chauhan’s rage paused for a full three seconds.

  Pooja practically squealed. "SHE'S SO PRETTY!"

  Manish whistled under his breath.

  Shweta actually smiled.

  Chauhan cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ahem. Family is important. But... ensure no disturbances during work hours."

  I nodded so fast I almost broke my neck.

  "Y-Yes, sir! 100% professionalism! Zero distractions!"

  Eira nodded solemnly too.

  I smmed mute again, twisted back to her, and whispered, "Go! Hide! Please! Before you kill my career!"

  She gave me a tiny, amused look and drifted away like a ghost.

  I exhaled shakily.

  God save me from helpful elves.

  The rest of the meeting was a blur.

  New assignments. Deadlines. More passive-aggressive threats from Chauhan.

  Finally, after what felt like three years, the call ended.

  I yanked off my headset, slumping forward onto the desk.

  Eira reappeared silently, holding out the untouched pte of biscuits.

  I groaned into the wood.

  "You almost got me fired," I said dramatically.

  "You needed food," she said, totally calm.

  "I need employment more," I muttered.

  She sat cross-legged on the floor, watching me.

  "This... work," she said slowly, "is survival?"

  "Yeah," I said, sitting up. "Money. Rent. Food. Wi-Fi. Without this, you can’t survive in this world."

  She considered it seriously, like she was learning battle tactics.

  "I will not interfere next time," she said finally.

  "Bless you," I said, grabbing a biscuit and munching gloomily.

  Around noon, I took a proper break.

  I found Eira sitting by the window, staring out at the busy street — kids running, dogs barking, bikes weaving dangerously between cars.

  "You okay?" I asked, flopping onto the couch.

  She nodded slowly.

  "This world is... fast," she said.

  I ughed. "Yeah. Welcome to the chaos."

  She gnced back at me."You seem... tired."

  I rubbed my face. "Welcome to adulthood."

  She smiled faintly.

  And despite everything —despite the job stress, the blown-up gaming setup, the public humiliation on Zoom —for a second, everything felt weirdly okay.

  The day dragged on — boring work emails, bug fixes, endless chai refills.

  But every time I gnced over at Eira, sitting quietly, sketching random patterns on a notepad, or fiddling with the Rubik’s cube I gave her...it felt less like I was alone.

  And that?

  That scared me a little.

  Because if she was going to be part of this world...maybe I wasn’t just surviving anymore.

  Maybe I was actually living.