The first thing Shen Yuqi noticed that morning was how crowded the lobby was.
People stood in loose clusters, some already pressed close to the elevator doors, others hovering nearby with phones in hand. The low murmur of conversation filled the space, punctuated by the occasional chime signaling an arriving car.
She slowed as she approached.
Two elevators were in service.
One arrived first, doors sliding open to reveal a half-full car. Several people stepped in immediately. Yuqi hesitated, calculating whether there would be enough space.
She was just about to move forward when she heard a familiar voice beside her.
"Are you taking this one?"
She turned.
Li Wei stood a step away, coat neat, expression calm. He hadn't come from the same direction she had. She hadn't seen him approach.
"Yes," she replied. Then, after a brief pause, added, "Unless it's too full."
He glanced inside the elevator.
"There's another coming," he said.
She nodded. "I can wait."
So could he.
The doors began to close.
Neither of them moved.
The elevator left.
For a moment, they stood side by side in the lobby, the space around them shifting as people rearranged themselves. Shen Yuqi became acutely aware of the fact that they had both made a choice—small, practical, easily justified.
Still.
They waited.
The next elevator arrived.
They stepped in together.
Inside, it was quieter. Fewer people. Enough room to breathe.
The doors closed.
Li Wei pressed the button for her floor first, then his own.
"Busy morning?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. "It feels like everyone arrived at the same time."
He nodded. "Mondays tend to do that."
The elevator rose.
She noticed something new—not about him, but about herself.
She wasn't thinking about where to stand.
Her body had already decided.
She stood where she usually did when he was there.
When the elevator stopped at her floor, she stepped out.
"See you later," she said.
"Yes."
She walked down the hallway, her mind unusually quiet.
At her desk, work demanded her attention almost immediately. Emails, a last-minute schedule change, a request from another department. She handled everything efficiently, slipping back into familiar focus.
Still, the moment in the lobby lingered—not because it was significant, but because it had been unnecessary.
He could have taken the other elevator.
So could she.
By mid-morning, the building had settled into its usual rhythm. She attended a meeting that ran longer than expected, the discussion circling the same points repeatedly before finally reaching a conclusion.
When it ended, she stepped out into the hallway and checked the time.
Later than planned.
She headed toward the elevators.
The doors were open.
Li Wei stood inside.
She paused.
"There's another coming," he said, glancing at the panel.
She looked at him. "I don't mind this one."
He nodded.
She stepped in.
The doors closed.
"You're running behind," he observed.
"Yes," she said. "That meeting went nowhere."
He smiled faintly. "Those are the worst."
They rode in silence for a moment.
Then he asked, "Are you heading out for lunch?"
"Yes."
"So am I."
They exited at the lobby together.
Outside, the street was busier than usual. The café line stretched out the door.
"Do you want to try somewhere else?" he asked.
She hesitated.
"There's a place down the block," she said. "It's quieter."
"Lead the way."
They walked side by side, their steps naturally aligning. The restaurant she mentioned was small, nearly empty at this hour. They ordered quickly and took seats at opposite sides of the table.
"How did you find this place?" he asked.
"I come here when I need quiet," she replied.
"I see."
They ate without rushing.
Their conversation stayed light—work, schedules, neutral observations. No personal questions. No confessions.
And yet, something had shifted.
They weren't filling silence anymore.
They were sharing it.
When they finished, he glanced at his watch.
"We should head back."
"Yes."
They paid and left.
On the walk back, Shen Yuqi noticed something else.
He matched her pace again.
Not consciously.
Just naturally.
At the building entrance, she slowed.
"I'll see you upstairs," she said.
"Yes."
The afternoon passed quickly. She was more focused than usual, her mind clear, her movements efficient.
Near the end of the day, she packed up her things earlier than usual.
As she stepped into the hallway, she saw him standing near the elevators, phone in hand.
"You're leaving now?" he asked.
"Yes."
He slipped his phone into his pocket. "I'll join you."
They stepped into the elevator together.
The doors closed.
"You don't have to," she said, without thinking.
He glanced at her. "I know."
The elevator descended.
At the lobby, they exited side by side.
Outside, the sky had dimmed, the air cool against her skin.
They walked toward the subway entrance.
"Do you ever take a different route home?" she asked.
"Sometimes," he replied. "Why?"
"No reason."
He nodded.
At the entrance, she stopped.
"This is me."
"Yes."
She hesitated, then added, "Thank you. For lunch."
He smiled faintly. "Anytime."
She descended the stairs.
On the train, she leaned back and closed her eyes, the day replaying itself in fragments.
The lobby.
The elevator.
The restaurant.
He could have taken the other elevator.
He hadn't.
At home, her brother looked up from his laptop as she entered.
"You're smiling," he said.
She blinked. "Am I?"
"A little."
She shook her head. "You're imagining things."
Maybe he was.
Later, in her room, Shen Yuqi sat at her desk and opened her notebook, intending to review tomorrow's tasks.
Instead, she wrote down one line.
He waited again.
She stared at it for a long moment, then closed the notebook.
She didn't know what it meant.
But she knew this much:
What was happening between them wasn't accidental anymore.
It was still quiet.
Still deniable.
Still unnamed.
But someone—both of them—had started choosing it.