Next Day At Work

The office is quiet for once — just the low hum of the vending machine and the faint clinking of someone making tea in the kitchen. You’ve claimed a corner table in the staff room, lunch spread out in front of you, but barely touched.

Your phone sits beside your salad, screen dark. You glance at it, tell yourself you’re not going to overthink it, then pick it up.

Tinder opens straight to his profile picture, the last line you sent yesterday still hanging there. You tap into the chat.

It starts light, a bit about work, a throwaway joke. Then it’s easier, quicker, messages landing back and forth without the pauses you’d expect from a stranger.

At some point, you realise you’re smiling, thumb moving without hesitation. The conversation has shifted, not blatantly, but enough that you can feel that current underneath. He’s confident without being pushy, and you catch yourself leaning in over the phone like you’re hearing him instead of reading him.

A message pops up, simple: We should meet.

You stare at it for a second, heart thumping harder than you’d like to admit. You type back without letting yourself think too long. Alright.

A quick reply: When?

You give him a day that fits, watching the little “delivered” tick appear.

There’s no talk of where, no specifics yet, just the agreement hanging there on the screen, quietly electric.

You lock your phone, set it face down beside your untouched salad, and take a slow sip of water. The room is exactly the same as it was ten minutes ago, but you feel warmer, more aware of yourself.

When you head back to your desk, the agreement sits in your head like a secret weight, not just heavy, just… there.