MEIN: ANTRAPADA

A Coincidental Lunch (POV RUI)

Rui had known since last Wednesday.

There was a post on i********:—a small cafe located just two buildings away from the office, featuring an aesthetic shot of a window corner. It was the perfect photo for an i********: feed, accompanied by a short caption about matcha lattes and how the lighting was ideal for both working and taking pictures. The account that posted it did not belong to Antonella. However, Antonella had left a single comment: Must come here next time.

Rui filed that information away in the same place he kept everything else—a part of himself that never discarded anything that might eventually prove useful. Especially when it concerned Antonella.

Today, Olethea was tied up in a cross-divisional coordination meeting from 13:00 to 13:30, swallowing up the lunch hour. Rui knew this because the division meeting schedules were logged in the internal system, which he had possessed access to since his very first day—not because he went looking for it, but simply because he always read whatever was available. And he would always know what was happening around Antonella.

He had reserved a table for one at this cafe since ten o'clock this morning for lunch.

The cafe appeared quite crowded for a typical workday, likely because the sudden, intense heat outside made people opt for a cooler, more comfortable spot to spend their lunch break.

Rui sat at a table near the window, a position chosen carefully to allow him to view the entrance without having to face it directly. He ordered a black coffee and a slice of chocolate cake, which they claimed was their specialty. He opened the report he had yet to finish revising after this morning's meeting.

At ten past one, the cafe door swung open.

Antonella walked in, her pace slightly faster than usual and her bun no longer as immaculate as it had been this morning—likely because she had jogged a bit to catch the lunch hour, which was already ten minutes underway, and she detested wasting time. She stood by the door for a brief moment, her eyes sweeping across the room in a manner Rui knew by heart: rapid, structured, from left to right.

Then she stopped.

Every single chair was occupied. Every table was full—except for one.

Rui did not look up from his report. He wanted to see just how far Antonella would dare to initiate.

He heard footsteps drawing near. They stopped directly across from his table.

"Excuse me—is this seat taken?"

Rui looked up. He allowed his expression to register a calculated hint of surprise—just enough to appear entirely natural, not manufactured. "Go ahead."

A single phrase. Answered by a nod.

Inside Rui, something he had tightly suppressed for the past three hours rebelled with uncontrollable force. He wanted to set everything in motion, immediately.

"Do you come here often?" Antonella asked as she opened the menu—a casual question, but coming from someone who wasn't fond of small talk, it meant she was searching for a comfortable starting point for a conversation. A good move.

"Sometimes," Rui replied without shifting his gaze from the document. This was actually his first time here. He was only here to have time alone with Antonella.

"Olethea?" Rui initiated the questioning after Antonella placed her order—a matcha latte, just as he had anticipated her usual order to be—with no heavy meal, just a sandwich and something that could be eaten with one hand while she remained free to read up on the project to study it further.

"She has a meeting," Antonella said, handing the menu back to the waiter who had finished taking her order. "With another division. She was the one who asked to merge the schedules so no time would be wasted." One corner of Rui's mouth twitched upward for a fraction of a second, so brief that even Antonella, sitting directly opposite him, failed to notice. "Very efficient, and it makes sense."

"Yes," Antonella agreed, nodding. "But it leaves me eating alone."

Rui didn't answer. But he didn't return to his report either; he simply closed it—without reading another word. Paying closer attention.

And that space opened up, without warning—and it was apparently enough to make Antonella begin speaking more comfortably.

She began to share things at the seventeen-minute mark.

Not in a formal or structured manner—more like someone who hadn't had the space to talk for a long time and suddenly discovered that the space existed, without warning, at a cramped cafe table with her favorite matcha latte cupped in her hands.

Her first day at the office. The way the building felt too symmetrical. The orientation that dragged on for an extra forty minutes. Olethea standing with her hands on her hips in front of the boarding house gate since 06:48.

Rui listened. Staying silent only at the precise moments.

He wasn't listening just to wait for his turn to speak—but with a silence that ensured Antonella felt no need to rush her story or check if her companion was still interested. He laughed at the appropriate parts. Not an exaggerated laugh—just a subtle shift at the corner of his lips, enough to signal that he caught the exact nuance she intended. He understood.

"You know what's strange?" Antonella set her sandwich down for a moment. "In the elevator earlier, when we first met—I felt like I had seen you somewhere before. But I just can't remember where."

Rui held her gaze for one second longer than he had planned.

"Perhaps you have," his voice remained even. "This city isn't that large."

Antonella seemed to weigh the answer for a brief moment.

Then she nodded—satisfied with an explanation that explained nothing but was sufficient.

"Or maybe it's just my habit of constantly feeling like I recognize strangers," Antonella laughed softly to herself.

"Olethea says it's one of my stranger quirks."

"It's not strange." Rui picked up his coffee, taking a small sip to wet his lips. "You pay attention to patterns. Sometimes a pattern makes something feel familiar before you even know the reason why."

Antonella stared at him with an expression Rui couldn't immediately categorize—somewhere between surprise and intrigue, with a faint trace of something else buried deeper within.

"You're different from how you were at the office earlier."

"Different how?"

"At the office, you look..." she searched for the right word.

"Like you're untouchable. Here, you look more—like a human being."

Rui did not answer immediately. He let the pause linger.

"The same person," he said finally. "Only the context is different."

Antonella spoke for thirty-one minutes.

Rui recorded all of it—not on paper, but in a place that never forgot. The way she laughed with her head tilted slightly upward, rather than casting her eyes down. The way she held her matcha cup with both hands even when she wasn't drinking from it—as if she required something to hold onto.

The way she blinked more frequently when processing something that made her uncomfortable, and less frequently when speaking about something she felt certain of.

Thirty-one minutes, and Rui knew more about Antonella Beatriz Sienne than he had gathered over months. He knew her better even than Olethea, who had known her for years.

It wasn't because Antonella was careless with someone she considered relatively new to her acquaintance. It was because no one had ever truly listened to her in this manner—with undivided attention, without a visible agenda, without a single judgment disguised as a comment. She liked it.

Antonella had no idea that this agenda had been planned all along. It was merely invisible, known to absolutely no one except Rui.

"Sorry, I've been talking way too much, haven't I?" She realized it suddenly, glancing down at her nearly empty cup. A slightly awkward expression crossed her face. "I'm usually not like this."

"It's fine."

"You must be bored."

"No." A single word, spoken in a way that left Antonella with no room to doubt its truth.

She gazed at Rui for a moment—differently from this morning in the lobby, differently from earlier in the meeting room. Like someone trying to decide whether an impression she was feeling could actually be trusted.

Rui waited.

"Thank you," she said finally. Softly. "For listening to me."

"There is no need to thank me for something I genuinely wanted to do."

Antonella gave a single nod. She then picked up her phone, stood up, and tucked her chair back in—an unnecessary habit, but one she performed because that was simply how she operated.

Rui did not stand up with her. He waited until Antonella had exited the cafe before he finally set down his report—the very report he hadn't opened once since Antonella sat down across from him.

Outside the window, he could see Antonella's silhouette walking back toward the office.

He picked up his pen. In the lower margin of the unread report, he scribbled a single small number.

31 minutes. 7 new things. Matcha, two hands, blinking pattern, way of laughing, reaction to silence, comfort threshold with a stranger: closer than average.

He closed the report.

Then he called the waiter over to settle the bill—including the matcha latte, which he had already paid for before Antonella even had the chance to notice.

Rui opened his notes once more. Beneath the figure of 31 minutes, he added a single line.

A habit that even Olethea doesn't know.

Rui closed his notepad.

The most valuable information wasn't what was visible—it was what remained hidden, even from those closest to you. And Antonella had just handed it over to him entirely unaware.

Even as she walked toward the office, Antonella did not look back.

Rui noted that, too.