Chapter 9 - Unlikely Impressions
Chapter 9: Unlikely Impressions
(Three years earlier)
From behind her screen at home, Shei Er rarely noticed new joiners. After six months at AMD, she had comfortably settled into remote work, content to keep social interactions to a minimum. People always described her as quiet, introverted, preferring the safe, predictable world behind her laptop.
So when Janice messaged her excitedly one Monday morning—“Hey, we have a new guy joining today. Name’s Aleem. Seems nice, super friendly type”—she merely shrugged, typing a quick, polite reply:
“Nice, hope he fits in!”
Janice, being Janice, didn’t leave it there. “Maybe he’s your type. Smart, confident, quite outgoing.”
She smiled quietly, shaking her head. Extroverted guys had never appealed to her; loud laughter, easy charm, spontaneous conversations—they overwhelmed rather than attracted her. She preferred quiet sincerity, gentleness, stability—traits that felt safer, calmer.
The weeks that followed only confirmed her initial assumption. Aleem’s presence quickly became apparent through the endless stream of friendly messages in group chats, jokes during team meetings, easy laughter that effortlessly charmed the office. Everyone seemed drawn to him, his friendliness infectious, his personality brightly confident.
Janice teased gently, sending another playful text: “Sure you’re not curious? He’s really quite charming.”
“Too extroverted for me,” she replied honestly. “You know me. I prefer quiet.”
It wasn’t until their first face-to-face team lunch, months later, that she finally met Aleem properly. She’d arrived early, picking a quiet seat beside Janice and Pei Ying, content to listen silently as colleagues chatted noisily around her.
Then Aleem arrived, cheerfully greeting everyone, eyes bright and smile warm. He took the empty seat opposite her, introducing himself confidently. She politely returned his greeting, inwardly cautious, quietly observing him.
Initially, he seemed exactly as she’d imagined: outgoing, chatty, energetic. Yet there was something different, something unexpected. Unlike many extroverted people she knew, Aleem also listened—intently, sincerely, genuinely. Whenever someone else spoke, he offered his full attention, nodding thoughtfully, respectfully allowing space for quieter voices.
When conversation shifted briefly to technical details, she quietly offered a tentative opinion, expecting to be overshadowed by louder voices. Instead, Aleem leaned forward, visibly interested, eyes encouraging.
“That’s actually insightful, Shei Er,” he said warmly, quietly sincere. “I hadn’t thought of it like that before.”
Caught off guard, she smiled shyly, quietly appreciative. Maybe, she conceded silently, he wasn’t as overwhelming as she had assumed.
After lunch, Janice nudged her gently, grinning teasingly. “So? Still too extroverted?”
“Maybe not,” she admitted softly, smiling faintly.
In the weeks that followed, Aleem gradually became a gentle but persistent presence. He never forced conversations, never overwhelmed her quiet nature. Instead, he carefully, respectfully bridged the gap, seeking her out quietly, encouraging conversations that started superficial but slowly deepened.
She found herself surprised—almost alarmed—by how comfortable she felt around him. Their interactions, once brief and formal, grew longer, warmer, even playful. Yet, Aleem always respected boundaries, sensing instinctively when she needed quietness, space.
One evening, working late, she quietly made tea in the pantry, lost in thought. Aleem appeared quietly beside her, his presence gentle yet comforting.
“Working late again, Xue Er?” he asked softly, casually using a nickname nobody else had ever dared use.
Surprised but pleased, she smiled shyly. “Seems like you always are too.”
He shrugged, smiling gently. “Maybe I just like the quiet hours.”
She laughed softly, pleasantly surprised by his gentle sincerity. “Me too.”
From that simple exchange, a quiet friendship blossomed—something she hadn’t expected from the extroverted newcomer she’d initially dismissed. Aleem gradually revealed quieter, hidden layers beneath his confident exterior: vulnerability, sensitivity, sincerity. She found herself increasingly drawn to his quiet strength, his thoughtful insights, the careful, gentle way he treated others.
Yet she remained cautious. Having recently recovered from a painful breakup, she didn’t trust easily, preferring friendship over risking another disappointment. She sensed something similar within Aleem, glimpsing quietly guarded pain behind his cheerful smiles. Perhaps he, too, had wounds he quietly hid.
But neither spoke openly about these deeper struggles, choosing instead quiet companionship, carefully preserving a gentle, respectful distance.
Months later, alone in bed one night, she quietly admitted to herself something she’d silently denied: Aleem had quietly, steadily changed her perception. Initially wary of his outgoing nature, she’d come to appreciate his sincerity, his patience, his quiet respectfulness.
Perhaps, she realised softly, extroversion wasn’t incompatible with sincerity. Perhaps the differences she initially feared had quietly transformed into something uniquely appealing.
Still, she reminded herself softly, friendship felt safer. She wasn’t yet ready to risk her heart again—especially not with someone who quietly stirred feelings she couldn’t yet fully trust.
So, for now, she carefully protected their quiet friendship, holding tightly to gentle companionship, quietly enjoying his presence without allowing feelings to deepen further.
Little did she know then, quietly protecting her heart, that Aleem was silently doing exactly the same. Both quietly guarding vulnerabilities, neither realising the depth of affection quietly blossoming beneath cautious friendship.
“One step at a time,” she reminded herself softly, smiling gently as sleep slowly overtook her.
She had no idea how beautifully complex their quiet friendship would soon become—or how profoundly Aleem would eventually change her life, quietly, gently, sincerely.