Author’s POV:

The next morning unfolded with a strange calmness. Sunlight streamed through the half-drawn curtains of the small kitchen, spilling golden streaks over the tiled counter and the simmering pans. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sound of sizzling oil, filling the place with a homely warmth. Keshav stood near the stove, sleeves rolled up, flipping something in the pan with a quiet focus, while Malav moved around briskly, chopping vegetables and humming an old film song under his breath.