Chapter Text
By half past eleven, the engineering office had settled into the familiar rhythm Lingling Kwong liked best.
The morning rush was over. The phones rang less often. Conversations drifted from meeting rooms into low murmurs across the open floor, punctuated only by the occasional clatter of keyboards and the hum of the printer near the pantry.
Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, warming the polished concrete floor and catching on the edges of computer monitors.
Ling barely noticed any of it.
She leaned a little closer to her screen, one elbow resting on the desk while a structural model slowly rotated beneath her fingertips.
Something about it refused to sit right.
Not the transfer beam.
That had been fixed twenty minutes ago.
Not the loading calculations either.
Those checked out.
Her eyes drifted lower, tracing the grid lines toward the basement parking layout.
There.
She stopped moving the mouse.
The revised column position solved one problem beautifully.
It quietly created another.
A parking bay had become too narrow to meet the required clearance.
Ling studied it for another few seconds, almost hoping she had overlooked something.
She hadn't.
Without thinking, she reached for the paper cup sitting beside her keyboard.
The coffee had long surrendered any claim of being hot. It was somewhere between lukewarm and regrettable.
She took another sip anyway.
Still coffee.
A shadow stopped beside her desk.
"You know," a familiar voice said, "most people replace cold coffee."
Ling didn't look up immediately.
"They also replace engineers."
"So that's your reason?"
She finally turned her chair.
Fluke stood beside her with a brown paper bag dangling from one hand and two takeaway cups balanced in the other.
He glanced at the untouched lunch already sitting on the empty desk opposite hers.
Then at her monitor.
Then back at her.
"You've been staring at that model since nine."
"I had a meeting."
"You stared at it during the meeting."
Ling considered correcting him.
She probably had.
Instead, she accepted the fresh coffee he held out.
"...Thanks."
Fluke smiled like someone who had just won an argument.
"You're welcome."
He dropped into the visitor's chair without asking.
He never asked.
After nearly ten years of friendship, asking would have felt stranger than simply sitting down.
Ling lifted the new cup and inhaled.
Much better.
She took a careful sip before setting it beside the old one.
Fluke noticed.
"You kept the old coffee."
"It still has coffee in it."
He stared at her for a long moment.
"Dude."
Ling looked genuinely confused.
"What?"
"You have two coffees."
"Yes."
"One is cold."
"Yes."
"You've replaced it."
Ling followed his logic.
Then looked at the abandoned paper cup.
"...I suppose I have."
Fluke rubbed both hands over his face.
"I worry about you."
"You worry about everyone."
"I absolutely do not."
"You reminded the intern to wear sunscreen yesterday."
"He burns easily."
Ling nodded once.
"Exactly."
***
By the time they stepped out of the building, the midday sun had already swallowed the last traces of the morning breeze.
The humid air hit Ling first.
She instinctively loosened the sleeves of her white shirt, rolling them neatly to her forearms before falling into step beside Fluke.
Bangkok in July had a way of making air-conditioning feel like a distant memory the moment automatic doors slid shut behind you.
The café sat across the street from the office, tucked between a stationery shop and a small convenience store that seemed permanently crowded no matter the hour.
Neither of them needed to discuss where they were going.
After years of working together, routines had quietly replaced conversations.
Fluke reached the pedestrian crossing first, stopping automatically when the traffic light flashed red.
Ling stopped beside him, eyes still absent-mindedly fixed on the project model lingering in her thoughts rather than the road in front of them.
"...You're still thinking about the parking layout."
She blinked.
"Hm?"
"The meeting."
"Oh."
She nodded once.
"I am."
Fluke laughed under his breath.
"I knew it."
"I think we can keep all the parking lots."
He turned to look at her.
"...Lunchtime."
"I know."
"You are physically walking to lunch."
"I know."
"But mentally you're still underground."
Ling considered that.
"...Also true."
Fluke smiled to himself.
Some people carried conversations.
Ling carried unfinished problems.
The pedestrian signal chimed.
They crossed with the rest of the crowd, weaving through office workers, university students, and tourists who had stopped in the middle of the pavement to decide where to eat.
Halfway across, Ling slowed.
"There."
Fluke followed her gaze.
A delivery truck had parked partly across the entrance to the office basement.
"The turning radius."
"What?"
"The truck."
She pointed.
"If another vehicle comes out now, they'll have to reverse first."
Fluke stared at the driveway.
"...You noticed that while crossing the road?"
"It looked inconvenient."
"You looked at traffic and started calculating turning circles."
Ling frowned slightly.
"Shouldn't everyone?"
"...No, dude."
She accepted that answer with surprising ease.
"Oh."
***
The lunch crowd had already begun to thin by the time they reached the café.
A waitress smiled the moment she saw them.
"The usual table?"
Fluke returned the smile.
"If it's free."
"It always is for you two."
Ling was already walking toward the window before either of them had looked at the menu.
Another routine.
Fluke watched her go.
"...See?"
The waitress chuckled.
"I've never seen someone choose the same seat every week."
"Every Tuesday."
"And Friday."
"...You noticed."
"I work here."
They laughed.
Ling had barely sat down when someone stopped beside their table.
"Aren't you two adorable."
Both of them looked up.
May, one of the civil engineers from the floor above, balanced her lunch tray against one hip, smiling far too knowingly.
"Lunch date again?"
Ling answered first.
"Unfortunately."
Fluke placed a hand dramatically over his chest.
"That was unnecessarily cruel."
"You'll recover."
"I bought you coffee."
"You did."
"I rescued you from drinking the cold one."
"You threw away perfectly drinkable coffee."
May laughed.
"I swear, one day people are actually going to believe you're dating."
Fluke pointed at Ling without missing a beat.
"I've been trying to convince her to date literally anyone else."
Ling calmly unfolded her napkin.
"I never asked."
"You never ask for anything."
"Correct."
"Exactly my point."
May shook her head, smiling as she headed toward another table.
"I'll leave you two lovebirds alone."
The moment she was out of earshot...
Ling looked at Fluke.
"...Lovebirds?"
"You get used to it."
"I don't think I want to."
Fluke stirred his iced tea thoughtfully.
"Can I ask you something?"
Ling nodded.
"You just did."
"...Can I ask another one?"
"Go ahead."
He rested both elbows on the table.
"When was your last date?"
Ling reached for her water.
She took a sip.
Thought about it.
"...Depends."
Fluke narrowed his eyes.
"There are multiple answers?"
"What qualifies as a date?"
"Oh no."
"What?"
"The fact that you asked that question worries me."
Ling ignored him.
"There was someone in university."
Fluke straightened.
"Finally."
"How long?"
"...Three weeks."
He blinked.
"...Three weeks."
She nodded.
"We had different schedules."
"Ling."
"Hm?"
"I don't think your timetable was the problem."
She looked genuinely puzzled.
"It wasn't?"
Fluke let out a disbelieving laugh.
"No, Dude."
He set his fork down and leaned back in his chair.
"I'm pretty sure relationships have survived busier schedules than yours."
Ling considered that.
"...Fair."
"What happened?"
She shrugged, as though she were trying to remember what she'd had for lunch three Tuesdays ago.
"We realized we wanted different things."
"And?"
"And that was it."
"...That was it?"
She nodded.
"We broke up."
Fluke stared at her.
"No crying?"
She shook her head.
"No dramatic phone call?"
Another shake.
"No mutual friends choosing sides?"
"...Should there have been?"
He groaned loudly enough that a couple at the next table glanced over.
"Ling."
"Hm?"
"You are the least dramatic person I've ever met."
"I've been told."
"You say that like it's a compliment."
"...Usually is."
He couldn't even argue with that.
For someone else, it probably would've sounded arrogant.
Coming from Ling, it was simply... a fact.
She wasn't trying to win.
She was just answering the question she'd been asked.
Fluke took a sip of his iced tea before studying her over the rim of the glass.
"So that's really it?"
"What is?"
"One relationship."
"True."
"In thirty-one years."
"Also true."
He sighed.
"Dude."
Ling reached for her water.
"What?"
"You've spent the last nine years designing buildings."
"Mm."
"You've been promoted twice."
"Mm."
"You bought your own apartment."
She nodded.
"I did."
"You've basically got your life together."
"I try."
He tilted his head.
"So why is dating the one project you've completely abandoned?"
Ling didn't answer immediately.
She looked out the café window instead, watching people hurry across the pedestrian crossing while motorcycles slipped effortlessly between slow-moving traffic.
When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet.
"...Because I like my life."
Fluke didn't interrupt.
"I like my job."
A beat.
"I like going home."
Another.
"I like knowing what my week looks like."
She smiled faintly to herself.
"I don't feel like anything's missing."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The sounds of the café drifted back in around them—the hiss of steaming milk behind the counter, spoons clinking against ceramic cups, someone laughing at a table nearby.
Fluke rested both forearms on the table.
"You know..."
"Hm?"
"That's actually a pretty good answer."
Ling looked at him, almost surprised.
"It is?"
"Yeah."
He smiled.
"I just don't think it's the whole answer."
She frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"I think you've built a life you're happy with."
He gestured vaguely between them.
"I just don't think you've ever stopped to ask whether someone could make it... better."
Ling was quiet.
Thinking.
Fluke watched her for a moment.
Before she could turn the question over any further, he leaned back.
"So."
"So."
"You should download Tinder."
She blinked.
"...Tinder?"
He paused.
Then pointed at her with his chopsticks.
"Actually."
A beat.
"Taimi."
Ling tilted her head.
"Taimi?"
"Better for you."
There wasn't even a hint of awkwardness in his correction.
There didn't need to be.
In nine years of friendship, he'd long since graduated from carefully choosing his words around Ling.
She simply nodded, accepting the change in recommendation as though he'd suggested a different brand of coffee.
"...No."
Fluke sighed dramatically.
"I haven't even started my presentation."
"I already know the conclusion."
"Dude."
"I don't need a dating app."
"Why not?"
She looked genuinely confused by the question.
"I already told you."
"You like your life."
"Mm."
"So?"
"So..."
She spread her hands slightly.
"Why would I disrupt it?"
Fluke looked at her for a beat.
"...To entertain me."
Ling frowned.
"...Huh?"
"No."
"Dude."
"No."
Fluke slumped deeper into his chair.
"I'm bored."
"...Read a book."
"I did."
"You're still on Tinder, right?"
"I don't want to date anyone right now."
Ling blinked.
"You don't?"
He shook his head.
"Nah."
Then he pointed at her.
"But I can watch you."
"...Watch me?"
"You."
He grinned.
"Trying online dating."
"I think it'll be hilarious."
"Please?"
She gave him a flat look.
"You're annoying."
He pressed both palms together.
"Pleeeeeease."
Ling held his gaze for a long moment.
"...Annoying."
Then she sighed, picked up her tray, and stood.
"...I'll think about it."
"...Yessss."
***
The office began emptying just after five-thirty.
One by one, computer screens went dark as conversations shifted from deadlines to dinner plans. Someone wished another team a good evening. A printer hummed one last time before falling silent.
Ling shut down her laptop, slipped it into her bag, and stood.
She glanced instinctively at the stack of drawings on her desk.
Tomorrow.
They could wait until tomorrow.
The thought came easier than it used to.
"Leaving?"
She looked up.
Fluke was already slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
"Mm."
He smiled, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
"I'll be expecting an update."
She pretended not to know what he meant.
"On?"
"My entertainment."
A small smile escaped before she could stop it.
"...Go home."
"I plan to."
He took a few steps backwards toward the lift, pointing at her as the doors opened.
"Don't forget."
The elevator swallowed him.
Ling shook her head.
"...Annoying."
***
The evening air wrapped around her the moment she stepped outside.
Bangkok was settling into its familiar rhythm. Office workers drifted toward the BTS station in loose groups while motorcycles threaded effortlessly through traffic that never seemed to disappear, no matter the hour.
She unlocked her car and settled into the driver's seat.
Her phone disappeared into the center console before she started the engine.
She never drove with music.
Or podcasts.
The quiet hum of the air-conditioning was company enough.
As traffic crawled toward the first intersection, her thoughts wandered back to the morning meeting.
The basement entrance.
The delivery truck.
The turning radius.
She frowned.
Moving the column had never been the right solution.
It was too expensive.
Too disruptive.
Unless...
Her fingers tapped absently against the steering wheel.
Not the column.
The ramp.
If they shifted the ramp half a metre instead...
The traffic light turned green.
A smile appeared almost without her noticing.
That might actually work.
She would sketch it first thing tomorrow morning.
Satisfied, she let the problem drift quietly to the back of her mind.
By then, she'd already turned into the familiar basement parking of her gym.
***
The receptionist looked up from behind the counter.
"Evening, Khun Ling."
"Evening."
No membership card.
No check-in.
Just a smile and a nod.
After four years of arriving at roughly the same time three evenings a week, everyone knew her.
Not by name, perhaps.
But by routine.
The changing room was nearly empty.
Ling tied her long black hair into a ponytail before changing into a charcoal workout shirt and black leggings. She fastened her smartwatch around her wrist and tightened the strap one notch.
She didn't need to check her workout schedule.
Tuesday was upper body.
Twenty minutes on the treadmill to warm up.
Then dumbbell rows.
Shoulder presses.
Lat pulldowns.
Finish with planks.
The routine hadn't changed in months.
She preferred it that way.
A gentle vibration buzzed against her wrist as she started the workout.
She wasn't someone who loved exercising.
She loved what came after.
A clearer mind.
Better sleep.
A back that didn't ache after spending the day leaning over drawings.
That was reason enough to come back every week.
She stepped onto the treadmill and clipped the safety key to the hem of her shirt.
The machine hummed to life beneath her feet.
One minute to warm up.
Then she increased the incline.
The gym was busier than usual.
Two university students argued over whose turn it was to use the cable machine.
An elderly couple occupied neighboring treadmills, chatting easily as they walked.
Near the stretching area, a man appeared to be conducting an unusually thorough photoshoot with a single dumbbell.
Ling watched him adjust his angle.
Take another photo.
Check the screen.
Try again.
"...Hope you got the right one."
She hadn't meant to say it out loud.
The woman on the treadmill beside her laughed.
"I've been wondering how many attempts he'd need."
Ling glanced over.
"...Sorry."
"It's okay." The woman smiled. "I was thinking the same thing."
They both looked over again.
The man finally nodded at his phone with visible satisfaction before setting the dumbbell down and walking away.
"...Guess he did."
The woman laughed.
Ling smiled politely before facing forward again.
Conversation complete.
She increased the speed by another point-two.
***
The familiar weight of her laptop bag settled comfortably against her shoulder as she unlocked the front door.
The apartment greeted her with exactly what she expected.
Silence.
She slipped off her trainers and lined them neatly beside the other pairs already waiting by the entrance before dropping her keys into the small ceramic tray on the console table.
The soft clink echoed briefly through the living room.
Home.
She drew the curtains halfway open instead of closing them completely. Outside, the lights from neighboring condominiums flickered to life one window after another, each apartment quietly settling into its own evening routine.
Ling disappeared into her bedroom, returning a few minutes later in an oversized grey T-shirt and a pair of black shorts, her hair still damp from a quick shower.
Dinner came together with the same quiet efficiency she brought to almost everything else.
Rice.
Grilled chicken.
Steamed vegetables.
Simple.
Nutritious.
Enough.
She carried the plate to the dining table and ate without switching on the television.
The silence never bothered her.
If anything, she found it comforting.
When dinner was over, she washed the dishes immediately, wiped the kitchen counter dry, and returned everything to its proper place before laying out tomorrow's work clothes across the foot of her bed.
A white blouse.
Navy slacks.
One less decision to make in the morning.
Only then did she fill the kettle.
Steam curled gently into the air as she placed a chamomile tea bag into her favorite ceramic mug.
She waited.
Poured.
Then carried the mug into the living room.
The sofa welcomed her as she tucked one leg beneath herself, the warmth of the tea settling comfortably between her hands.
For a while, she simply sat.
The city murmured beyond the glass.
Somewhere below, a train rumbled faintly across the tracks before fading into the distance.
Her phone buzzed against the coffee table.
She smiled before she even picked it up.
Fluke: Download it yet?
She shook her head, already knowing this wasn't going away.
Ling: Seriously?
His reply appeared almost immediately.
Fluke: Yes.
A second message followed.
Fluke: Do it for me?
Ling looked up from her phone.
Her apartment was exactly as she'd left it.
Tomorrow's clothes were ready.
The dishes were clean.
A warm mug of chamomile tea rested between her hands.
It was a quiet life.
A comfortable one.
She liked it.
A dating app wasn't going to change that.
Probably.
She reached for her phone again.
The App Store opened.
Her thumb hovered briefly over the search bar before she typed.
Taimi.
The app appeared almost instantly.
She studied the icon for a moment.
Then tapped Get.
A blue circle slowly completed its journey around the icon.
Done.
She tapped it.
The screen faded to white.
A moment later, a single prompt appeared.
Create your profile.
Ling stared at it.
"...Profile?"