I left Chak and Kit in the living room and headed to the art room. I wanted to be alone for a bit and unwind. I took a sheet of paper and started drawing, but I couldn't concentrate. I put the paper aside, stood up, and opened the window. I heard the birds singing, their song floating through the quiet evening air.
Suddenly, I heard the door open. I turned around and saw Chak. He stepped inside and quietly said, "Dinner should be ready in an hour. Cook whatever you want. Kit will eat with us."
"Alright," I nodded.
Chak turned and went back to his office. I made my way to the kitchen and prepared something simple — fried rice with chicken and vegetables. When I finished, I knocked on his office door.
"Dinner's on the table," I said as I walked in.
Chak and Kit looked up at me and said in near unison, "We're coming."
I went back to the kitchen and sat at the table, waiting. They both showed up shortly after. We sat down and started eating. There was something unusually warm in the air. Everything felt simple, yet comforting. I felt like I was part of... something.
Kit looked over at me with a smile. "Fried rice, huh? Nice one, little chef."
I blushed. Chak didn't say much, but the small nod he gave me said enough — he liked it.
After dinner, I started cleaning up, while Kit got up, walked over to Chak, and gave him a quick hug. It was brief, but meaningful. Then he turned to me.
"See you, little guy," he said with a soft smile, looking at me kindly.
"See you," I replied quietly.
When the door closed behind him, I looked over at Chak, who stood by the counter with a cup of tea in his hand. We didn't say a word, but the silence between us was no longer tense.
It felt... like home.
After Kit left, Chak stood up, looked out the window for a few moments, then turned to me.
"Niran," he said softly. "Come to the living room? I have something I want to show you."
I nodded and stood up. I followed him to the living room, where he sat on the couch. When I sat down next to him, he got up and went to the corner where the guitar stand was placed.
Chak picked up the blue-black guitar and brought it to me. "I want you to play this," he said, handing me the guitar.
I looked at the guitar, confused. "I don't know how to play it," I admitted, slightly embarrassed.
Chak smiled, then sat back down on the couch. He grabbed the guitar and played a few simple notes. The sound was softly clear, each note carrying a mysterious energy.
I laughed when he finished. "I didn't know you could play the guitar," I said, completely amazed at how his fingers effortlessly glided over the strings.
Chak just nodded, a small smile on his face. "I'm not a great guitarist, but I like to play when I have the time."
There was something in that moment, something in the way he played, something that captivated me. He put the guitar back on the stand and sat back down next to me.
"You have talents too," he said, but his tone now sounded a bit more serious than usual. "I know you're hiding your art."
I blushed. I didn't know what to say. All I could do was sit quietly next to him and feel... more at home than I dared to admit.