Three hours later, I received a message from Chak. It was short and commanding:
"Cook Pad Thai for dinner. Make the rice noodles yourself!"
I stared at the screen. Pad Thai? That's not easy... I quickly looked up a few recipes and realized that the preparation was quite complicated—especially if I had to make the rice noodles from scratch. How do you even make them? What if I fail?
I took a deep breath.
"Is something wrong, Niran?" Non asked.
"No, nothing," I lied and stood up to get some water.
I took a bottle from the fridge, unscrewed the cap, and as I walked back to the table, a thought hit me: How am I supposed to cook dinner if I don't even know the door code?
I took two sips, then turned around and walked toward Chak's office with determination.
I knocked.
"Come in," his cold voice responded.
I stepped inside. The sunlight cast a soft glow across the office, but Chak was focused on some documents. I moved closer until he finally lifted his gaze to me.
"What do you want, Niran?"
I hesitated for a moment before asking in a quiet voice,
"Sir… how am I supposed to cook you dinner if I can't enter the house? I don't know the code. "
Chak responded icily, "Memorize these numbers, because I won't repeat them."
I shifted nervously.
"1789532903."
I swallowed hard.
"Did you get that?" he asked, his voice calm but sharp.
"I think so…" I answered, feeling unsure.
Why so many numbers?
"Repeat them," he demanded.
I took a deep breath and slowly recited,
"1789532309."
The second I finished, I knew I had made a mistake. His cold stare confirmed it.
"I see you can't even remember a few numbers," he said with a trace of amusement. He took a piece of paper and a pen, quickly jotting down the correct code.
I felt my face heat up. *Damn it, Niran, you can't even remember a few numbers…*
He handed me the note, and as our fingers brushed, a strange sensation shot through me. His touch was intense—his skin soft, his warmth barely noticeable but enough to send butterflies fluttering in my stomach. My heart began to race. Though the contact lasted only a second, it felt like an eternity.
Chak was the first to pull away. He sighed and then his eyes shifted to the bottle of water in my hand.
"Leave the water here," he ordered.
I blinked in confusion. "I… I can't, sir. I already drank from it. I can get you a new one if you want."
Chak's expression remained unreadable, but there was something in his gaze—something almost… possessive.
"No," he said firmly. "I don't want another one. I want yours."
I felt my breath hitch. His words sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.
"...Alright," I murmured, placing the bottle on his desk.
For a brief moment, neither of us moved. The air between us felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Then, as if nothing had happened, Chak leaned back in his chair and dismissed me.
"Go. I'll see you at home."
"Yes, sir," I replied, slightly dazed, and turned to leave.
Just as I reached the door, I stopped and turned back.
"I almost forgot… Thank you."
I carefully tucked the note into my pocket, making sure no one would see it.
Back at the table, I closed my eyes for a brief moment, trying to relive the feeling of his fingers against mine... and the way his words had made my heart race.