Uneventful

The workday unfolds in its usual murmur of screens and murmured status updates, a blur of code commits and caffeinated focus that barely registers against the quiet hum building inside me. Mark passes by once, nodding curtly. No sharp words today, just the acknowledgment of my steady output. Elena's desk sits across the QA pit, her dark ponytail swaying as she types, stealing glances that meet mine with a spark, her green eyes holding promises without need for the app's nudge. I skip the weaves entirely, letting the natural pull carry us through: a brush of her hand during a hallway stretch, a shared laugh over a glitch that wasn't mine. By five, the office thins out, fluorescent hum fading as she gathers her bag, that athletic frame poised with anticipation.

"Ready?" she asks, falling into step beside me at the elevator, her arm linking through mine like it belongs there. The doors slide shut, and in the close space, her scent, clean and faintly citrus from her lotion, fills the air. No rush, just the warmth of her body leaning in, thigh pressing briefly against mine. We spill out onto the street, the city evening alive with honks and pedestrian weave, but our pace syncs effortlessly, shoulders brushing under the lengthening shadows.

Conversation flows light at first, debriefing the day's inanities. Her latest bug hunt, my refactor that finally passed muster. Then easing into the personal, the kind that pulls tighter without effort. "You canceled last time," she teases, nudging my side, her freckles dancing in the fading light. "Something came up?"

I smile, meeting her gaze steadily. "Had to take care of something else." Vague enough to sidestep, priorities shifting without detail.

Her eyes flicker with a brief question, a subtle crease between her brows as she searches my face, but it smooths away quickly. She nods, squeezing my hand instead. "Fair enough. Not tonight, though." Her laugh bubbles up, light and trusting, and the walk stretches those familiar blocks, from the firm's glass facade past the deli with its neon glow, up to my building's quiet entrance. The lobby light buzzes softly as we ride the elevator skyward, silence comfortable now, charged with the memory of her skin under mine that previous night. At my door, I unlock it with a turn of the key, the bolt clicking back, and step aside to let her in first. She crosses the threshold, her silhouette framed in the dim hall light, turning to face me with a slow, inviting smile.