My Psychotic Boss

Food For Thought

The sun filtered softly through the café windows, casting a warm glow over the small table where the four of them sat. Seren was sandwiched between Rowan and Malrick, her hands folded politely over her menu, while Delaney lounged casually beside Rowan, chattering away like this lunch had always included her.

Malrick hadn't spoken much, his usual quiet demeanor making him more of a listener than a contributor, but he watched Delaney closely, his pale fingers drumming ever so slightly against the table. Then, without warning, his voice cut through Delaney's laughter.

"So... how long have you and Rowan known each other?" It was still soft, still low, but something had changed. The tone was no longer timid or hesitant. It was flat. Controlled. Deliberate. There was a chill behind the words that didn't belong.

Delaney blinked, thrown off mid-sentence. "Uh... since college," she said slowly, her smile faltering. "We were in a few of the same classes. We've been friends ever since."

Malrick's expression remained unreadable. He leaned forward slightly, folding his hands. "Friends," he echoed. "Close ones?" There was no tilt of amusement in his voice. No friendly curiosity. Just the quiet, even hum of something more calculated. Seren turned her head slightly, studying him.

Delaney laughed again, short, nervous. "Yeah, I guess so? I mean, he's engaged to Seren, obviously."

Malrick didn't look at Seren. His pale eyes stayed fixed on Delaney. "And yet... you sit beside him. Touch his arm. Lean close when you speak." The words were spoken with eerie precision, like he'd rehearsed them. The atmosphere tightened.

Delaney glanced at Seren, unease flickering across her face for the first time. "Is... there a problem?"

Malrick tilted his head ever so slightly. His voice lowered further, still soft, but now it carried an unnatural weight. "Do you always insert yourself into others' moments like this, Delaney?" he asked. "Or is it just Rowan who draws you in?"

There was a beat of stunned silence. Rowan looked up then, brows pulling together. "Malrick—what are you—" And then, just as quickly as the shadow had passed over him, it was gone. Malrick blinked, straightened, and gave a gentle, apologetic smile. "Oh—no, I didn't mean to make anyone uncomfortable. I tend to ask too many questions when I'm curious. Old habit." His voice had returned to its familiar softness, barely audible, polite to a fault. "Please, let's not dwell on it." He turned and waved to the waiter, raising his hand with an easy grace. "We're ready to order."

Delaney said nothing. She stared down at her menu with wide eyes, jaw slightly clenched. Seren sat perfectly still, her heart tapping oddly against her ribs. She didn't know what that had been. But it hadn't been the Malrick she thought she knew. And as the waiter approached with a pen poised over a notepad, she couldn't help but glance sideways at Malrick's placid smile, and wonder what lay just beneath it.