Between Bites

Part 1

It wasn't like I hadn't noticed him before. Always looking half-asleep, moving through the office like he was drifting in and out of a dream. I knew he only wore his glasses when he was in front of a screen, which, given that he was part of the data team, meant most of the time. He was never on the morning shift—something about his team relying on him too much at night. Not exactly a leader, but always the one who knew things.

And today, I finally learned his name.

"Maliq," someone called out.

Both of us flinched at the sound. I had been in the middle of checking some data with his team lead, Imam, while Maliq... well, was just being his usual, half-drowsy self.

Maliq turned his head at the sound of his name, but instead of looking toward the voice, he stopped mid-turn and met my eyes. For a brief, surreal moment, everything else seemed to fade.

The hum of the office, the chatter of the team—everything dimmed down. It was just the two of us, standing there in this strange, silent connection. I couldn't explain it, but something shifted in that split second, something unspoken between us. Maybe it was the way his gaze lingered a little too long, or how my heart skipped without warning.

Either way, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had just started, something that neither of us could fully understand yet.

"Miss Prita," Imam called again, snapping me out of the moment. I was startled once more, my attention shifting back to him as I quickly refocused.

"Yes?" I replied, my voice a little more abrupt than I intended. But I couldn't help it; my mind was still trying to process what had just happened with Maliq.

Out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw him chuckle, though he quickly masked it with his usual dozing expression. It was the kind of quiet laugh that felt like a private joke, one I wasn't sure if I was part of or not. Imam, oblivious to my distraction, continued on with the data I had asked about.

"So, as for the figures you requested, the numbers here are—" He pointed to the screen, outlining the data for me. I nodded, trying my best to focus on the numbers, but my mind kept drifting back to that brief moment with Maliq.

I grabbed my lunchbox and headed to the pantry, as I did every day. It wasn't because I dreamed of being someone's mom or wife—honestly, I was just trying to save money. The pantry was never crowded, usually just one or two people eating at most. If anything, our office's pantry could be mistaken for a cafeteria with how spacious it was, yet it never felt bustling. Employees got their own catering for lunch, so this place had become quieter and quieter over time. It was almost eerie, how it had lost all the lively chatter it once had, now just a place for people to quickly eat and retreat back to their workstations.

As I scanned the room for a place to sit—though honestly, any spot would've been fine—I caught sight of Maliq. His face was halfway through chewing, but when our eyes met, he froze for a moment, stopping mid-bite.

Maliq looked like the kind of person you'd expect to find buried in books, a handsome nerd with deep, almost mesmerizing black eyes that seemed to pull you in. His features were sharp yet soft, with a quiet intensity behind them, like there was always more going on in his head than he let on. He wasn't wearing his glasses today, which made him look even more approachable, but still a little distant—like someone who preferred to observe rather than participate.

He wore a knitted, bright cardigan—bold and stylish in a way that didn't scream for attention but still made a statement—and loafers that gave him the polished look of a prep student. It was a sharp contrast to the way he usually seemed, like he was out of place in a setting where most people might prefer to dress down. His look, though, worked. He pulled it off effortlessly, blending intellect with fashion in a way that felt almost deliberate.