The cafeteria buzzed around them, but at that one table — where Aarohi and Rithvik sat across from each other — time felt oddly slower.
Aarohi poked lightly at her lunch tray, which held a serving of pad kra pao with jasmine rice and a small bowl of tom kha soup. Her appetite, however, was missing in action.
After all, she was having lunch. With the CEO.
Rithvik Veerayut, known for his cold indifference and razor-sharp decisions, sat calmly across from her, sipping on a strong iced black coffee. In this moment—free of boardrooms and formal reports—he looked almost human.
She dared to glance at him.
He noticed.
His fingers tapped lightly on the wooden table. A silent pause stretched between them.
"You're not eating much," he said suddenly.
Aarohi blinked, startled by the casual tone in his voice.
"Oh! I... I'm just not used to..." she hesitated, trying to explain why her nerves were stronger than her hunger.
He leaned back slightly, folding his arms.
"To lunch breaks? Or eating with the boss?" he asked, and there it was — the faintest flicker of a smirk at the corner of his lips.
She blushed. "Maybe... both."
Rithvik casually broke off a piece of his kai jeow (Thai-style omelette) and set it aside on his plate.
"Then get used to it."
Her heart stumbled. Was that an invitation for the future?
Suddenly, a soft thump under the table startled her. Her foot had accidentally bumped his.
"Ah! Sorry, I didn't mean to—" she panicked, quickly drawing her leg back.
Rithvik's face remained mostly unreadable, but he tilted his head ever so slightly. "You always apologize too quickly."
Aarohi gave a nervous laugh. "Habit. Comes with being an intern."
There was something different in his gaze now. Not cold. Not dismissive. Curious. Like he was trying to understand her beyond her role.
"Then stop apologizing for who you are," he said, voice gentler this time.
Those words hit her deeper than expected — warm, affirming, quietly powerful.
Aarohi looked down at her plate, then picked up her spoon with a small, determined nod.
Maybe she could get used to this.
---
Scene 2: Matchmakers in Action
At a far corner of the cafeteria, hidden behind a decorative partition and a few fake indoor plants shaped like tropical palms, Thanwa and Rhea sat at a small round table — spying on Rithvik and Aarohi like undercover agents on a mission. A very dramatic mission.
Thanwa munched on his moo ping (grilled pork skewers) while adjusting his phone camera like a seasoned paparazzi. "Well, well, look at that," he whispered, eyes narrowed as if watching a National Geographic documentary. "Did you see how she looked down and he gently slid the nam pla (fish sauce) bottle closer like it's a love offering? That's episode one energy. Classic cold-CEO-melts scene!"
Rhea popped a crispy shrimp chip into her mouth. "Episode one? Excuse me. That's straight-up episode three slow-burn territory. They're already at 'accidental eye contact over spicy soup' level."
Thanwa gasped as if she had declared war. "Wait—hold on—no! That look Rithvik gave? That was definitely a 'my heart is awakening with chili sauce' look!"
Then, with zero warning, Rhea dramatically cleared her throat and deepened her voice into "CEO Mode" as she picked up a spoon like a mic:
> "Miss Aarohi, I have decided to eat with you because you... stirred something in my cold, corporate heart... and possibly in my kaeng khiao wan."
Thanwa, already half-choking on his skewers, fluttered his hands and joined in with a breathy voice:
> "Oh no, Mr. Rithvik... I— I only came for my pad see ew... but now my emotions are deep-fried like banana fritters!"
They both burst out laughing, nearly knocking over their drinks.
From across the table, Pakorn sat frozen with his untouched Thai basil chicken rice and an expression that said, Why am I friends with these people?
He finally groaned, "How old are you both? Five?"
Rhea leaned toward him, eyes twinkling. "Come on, Mr. Iceblock. Loosen up! Can't you see your brother is finally catching feelings?"
Thanwa dramatically grabbed Pakorn's arm and whispered, "We are the wings beneath his spicy romantic curry. Accept your destiny, Pakorn."
Pakorn narrowed his eyes. "I didn't sign up for this matchmaking circus."
Thanwa grinned. "Too late. You're already vice-president of the Chaotic Cupids Committee."
Rhea pointed to Pakorn's phone. "Besides, your secret camera work from earlier? Cinematic gold. We need it for our documentary: When the CEO Falls."
Pakorn facepalmed. "I'm going to get blamed for this."
"You'll get credit when they get married and name their kid after you," Rhea shot back.
Pakorn sighed, picking at his rice. "I miss the days when people feared the Veerayut brothers."
Rhea grinned. "Now it's just Rithvik the romantic and Pakorn the brooding sidekick."
Then she added teasingly, "You know, you and Rithvik are both so... reserved. Serious. All stoic and mysterious."
Thanwa nodded solemnly. "Exactly. And that's why people assume I'm the younger brother."
Rhea blinked. "Wait... you're not?!"
Thanwa placed a hand on his chest dramatically. "Sweetie, I'm the oldest. Pakorn is our adorable little baby brother. Just with the personality of a grumpy fifty-year-old monk who hates sunshine."
Rhea gasped. "No way! You act like the youngest!"
Pakorn deadpanned, "That's because I have to babysit you both."
Just then, Thanwa cupped his hands like imaginary binoculars again and gasped. "Wait—WAIT—did he just give her the last bite of mango sticky rice?!"
Rhea's jaw dropped. "That's sacrifice! He gave up dessert! That's love language level ten!"
Pakorn pushed his tray away and stood up. "I'm going to HR. You two need spiritual cleansing and possibly medication."
But even as he turned to walk off, Rhea called out, "Aww, don't leave! Our little brother's so tsundere today!"
Thanwa leaned in and stage-whispered, "He's just shy because he wants a love story too. We'll find you a stoic librarian type, Pakorn!"
Pakorn didn't turn around… but the smallest smirk tugged at his lips as he muttered under his breath, "God help me."
---
Scene 3: Interrupted Peace and Unspoken Invitations
The subtle chatter in the cafeteria buzzed around them, but at Rithvik and Aarohi's table, a strange silence had settled — not awkward, not uncomfortable — but charged. Like the moment before a summer storm.
Aarohi had just taken her first full bite of pad kra pao when she noticed it — the tiniest twitch at the corner of Rithvik's mouth.
He was staring beyond her shoulder.
Following his gaze, Aarohi turned slightly.
At a distant table, hidden behind suspiciously large decorative plants and a suspiciously loud burst of laughter, sat Thanwa, Rhea, and... Pakorn?
Pakorn looked exhausted.
Thanwa looked thrilled.
Rhea was animatedly pointing in their direction, mouthing something dramatic and over-exaggerated.
Rithvik sighed, slowly putting down his spoon.
Of course. His brother and those two devils were up to something again.
He sipped the last of his black coffee and dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin, his movements calm, precise, and deliberate — but the air around him had shifted. Aarohi could feel it.
He stood.
Aarohi blinked and quickly wiped her lips, flustered. "Sir—Did I say something wrong?"
Rithvik's eyes met hers, steady and unreadable, but his voice was smooth and deep as always. "No."
He adjusted the cuffs of his white shirt, gaze flicking again toward his brother's "matchmaking council" across the room.
Aarohi tried not to look nervous, but her heartbeat was a traitor.
Then his voice lowered, not harsh, but firm.
> "After you finish lunch… come to my chamber."
Aarohi froze, her spoon hovering mid-air.
> His chamber?
Not his cabin. Not his office. His chamber.
The word sounded... strangely intimate. Or maybe her brain was just spiraling.
"Y-Yes, Sir," she managed to say.
Rithvik gave a single nod and turned, walking out of the cafeteria with a confidence that made heads turn in his wake — the very definition of grace wrapped in authority.
At the "secret spy table," Thanwa gasped.
"Oooohh did you hear that?! He didn't say 'meeting room'! He said 'chamber!' That's CEO code for romance!"
Pakorn, now face-down on the table, groaned. "That's literally just a fancy word for his office."
Rhea whispered gleefully, "It's never just an office when feelings are involved."
Back at the table, Aarohi was still staring at the door through which Rithvik had disappeared. Her lunch was untouched again.
Her mind was not.
Because "Come to my chamber" was echoing on loop — and her heart had no idea how to deal with it.