By midweek, the Scorpio sprint was in full meltdown sorry, momentum.

The office smelled like filter coffee, recycled air, and collective anxiety. Jira tickets multiplied faster than monsoon potholes, and every conversation started with "quick question" and ended with someone questioning their life choices. The hum of keyboards mixed with the gentle chorus of sighs, mouse clicks, and the occasional "why is this not compiling?"

For Radha and Sameer, though, something subtle had shifted. The pantry encounter had turned their Slack banter into something... different. There was a pulse to it now, an invisible thread stretching between floors between her QA seat near the window and his dev cave in the basement. Every message carried a strange mix of familiarity and anticipation, like an inside joke only the two of them understood.

And so, every morning followed a new ritual.

At exactly 9:47 a.m. because Sameer was consistent only in oddly specific ways - Radha's Slack would ping.

Sameer K: morning QA boss. today's mission: survive client review and resist sarcasm for at least 2 hours.

She'd sip her coffee, smirking, before replying.

Radha N: define survive. also, impossible task. sarcasm is literally my core skill set.

Sameer K: updating your LinkedIn: "Certified Sarcasm Practitioner."

Radha N: endorsed by HR for emotional damage.

It was ridiculous, how much those exchanges lifted her mood. Forget caffeine this was better than any productivity hack.

Of course, Priya noticed. Priya always noticed.

"New morning ritual?" she asked one day, leaning over Radha's desk with the subtlety of a stand-up comedian mid-roast.

Radha minimized her Slack window so fast she nearly spilled her chai. "It's work stuff."

Priya's eyebrow shot up in HR-disapproval mode. "Sure. Totally normal to giggle at 'work stuff' before 10 a.m. Most people need two meetings and a mild breakdown for that."

Radha glared, cheeks warming. "I don't giggle."

Priya crossed her arms. "You so giggle. I heard it yesterday. It was like... happiness with a Wi-Fi connection. Honestly? Gross."

"Go debug your own dating life," Radha shot back.

Priya snorted, defeated. "Touché. But just saying, if you two start pair-programming poetry, I'm reporting it as a conflict of interest."

Radha rolled her eyes, trying and failing to suppress her grin.

Outside, the rain drummed against the glass. Inside, the sprint sprinted on. Deadlines loomed, coffee cups piled up, and code broke in mysterious new ways.

But between bug reports and build errors, one small Slack notification at 9:47 a.m. somehow made everything feel lighter.

Downstairs, Sameer wasn't exactly thriving either.

Dev had decided that his new side hustle was live-commentating Sameer's love life like a cricket match sponsored by bad decisions and unlimited caffeine.

"Day 3 of Project: Jira Romance," Dev announced dramatically, loud enough for the entire dev pit to hear. "QA lead batting strong, Developer sweating under pressure. No boundaries, only emotional run-outs."

Sameer didn't even look up from his screen. "Dev, one more word and I'll rename all your commits to 'hopeless-romantic-v1'."

Dev gasped theatrically. "You wouldn't."

Sameer's fingers started flying across the keyboard. "Try me."

Ten minutes later, Dev's Git history proudly displayed:

feat: confessed feelings to vending machine fix: still single refactor: dignity

A moment of silence. Then a roar of laughter from the rest of the dev floor.

"BRO!" Dev howled, clutching his head like he'd just lost the World Cup. "You vandalized my repo of self-respect!"

Sameer leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Consider it peer-reviewed."

Someone from across the room yelled, "Ship it to production!" and the entire floor dissolved into more laughter.

Dev pointed at him, mock-serious. "You may have won this sprint, Kapoor, but the backlog remembers."

"Add it to Jira," Sameer shot back. "Tag it as 'won't fix.'"

The laughter eventually died down, the office settling back into its usual symphony of clicks, caffeine, and quiet suffering.

Sameer tried to refocus on his code, but his mind wasn't cooperating. The lines blurred into a comfortable haze, his thoughts wandering to something far less technical.

He opened Slack again. Their chat was still there, scroll after scroll of small talk, teasing comments, and little jokes that had started to feel like the best part of his day.

It wasn't much. Just words on a screen. But for the first time in a long while, they didn't feel ordinary.

That Thursday evening, the rain came back with full dramatic flair like Mumbai's favorite background score. It fell steady and hypnotic against the glass, washing the city in silver streaks. The office had thinned out hours ago, but Radha was still at her desk, bathed in the pale glow of her second monitor and the faint hum of the AC that sounded like it, too, wanted to go home.

Her Slack buzzed.

Sameer K: hey, you still in office?

She smiled, thumb already moving.

Radha N: yep. testing checkout flow. you?

Sameer K: same floor, actually. dev pit. Dev's been humming love songs for 20 mins straight.

Radha N: maybe he's your subconscious speaking.

Sameer K: ouch. QA's savage tonight.

Radha N: always.

There was a pause. The kind that felt deliberate. Then another ping.

Sameer K: you want to grab coffee before we both lose our sanity?

Radha froze for a beat, the sound of rain filling the silence between heartbeats. She read the message once. Then again.

Her rational brain; the one trained in test plans and deadlines - immediately kicked in. It reminded her that she had four unresolved test cases, a sprint review in the morning, and a PM who used the word "synergy" unironically.

But her traitor of a heart had already started imagining the steam from the coffee glasses, the low laughter, the way his hoodie probably smelled faintly of coffee and code.

She forced herself to type.

Radha N: tempting. but sprint review tomorrow. i still have 4 test cases.

A moment later:

Sameer K: fine. i'll bribe you with samosas next time.

Radha N: bribes are strictly against QA policy. but... noted.

She leaned back in her chair, smiling faintly at the screen. The rain kept falling, steady and sure, tapping softly against the glass like a metronome for her thoughts.

Because part of her - a very large, caffeine-dependent part really did want to go.

But instead, she opened another test case, pretended to focus, and told herself that maybe next time wasn't such a bad thing to look forward to.

By Friday morning, the office gossip machine had officially hit production.

It started innocently enough with a meme on the general Slack channel, posted by someone with way too much free time and Photoshop access:

"Somewhere between commits and comments, love found a pull request."

Underneath, Dev had proudly tagged:
@Sameer @Radha coincidence? i think not 😎

Radha nearly choked on her coffee.

Her Slack notification lit up as if mocking her. She immediately messaged him.

Radha N: kill your teammate.
Sameer K: already drafting his termination letter.
Radha N: good. i'll approve it. QA tested.
Sameer K: guess our secret fan club's growing.
Radha N: unacceptable. this is workplace harassment by meme.
Sameer K: to be fair, we did accidentally invent office rom-com material.
Radha N: shh. don't give them ideas. next thing you know, HR's organizing "team bonding" movie nights.

She tried to look composed as Priya passed her desk, suspiciously sipping her tea like a detective who'd already cracked the case. Radha buried her face in her monitor and pretended to debug a nonexistent test.

Across the floor, Sameer wasn't faring much better. Dev had printed the meme and pinned it to the team's kanban board under "In Progress." He called it "Project Feelings." Sameer threatened to push a fake production build in retaliation.

By noon, the meme had fifty reactions and one HR emoji reply that said simply: 👀.

It was going to be a long day.

That weekend, Radha worked from home. The rain outside was steady, soft, rhythmic like Mumbai is in its most contemplative mood. Her cat was curled like a comma beside her laptop, purring faintly.

She opened her work tab, planning to review logs from the last sprint. But her fingers betrayed her and opened Slack instead.

Sameer K online.

Of course. She hesitated, then typed before her brain could intervene.

Radha N: still coding on a weekend?
Sameer K: still testing on a weekend?
Radha N: touché.
Sameer K: truthfully, just watching the rain. it's... distracting.
Radha N: same. weirdly calming, though.

There was a pause, the comfortable kind. She could almost hear the rain through the silence of the chat.

Then his next message blinked onto the screen.

Sameer K: you think if we ever meet properly, it'll be this awkward?

Her fingers hovered for a second, her heart doing that inconvenient flutter again.

Radha N: probably. but maybe also nice.
Sameer K: yeah. maybe nice.

The typing dots lingered for a while, three tiny flickers of hesitation and then disappeared.

Radha leaned back, the faint rumble of thunder rolling over the city. She closed her laptop slowly, smiling despite herself.

Outside, the rain kept falling quiet, patient, and just a little romantic.

In the glow of her monitor, one unread message remained quiet, almost shy, sent just before he logged off:

Sameer K: btw, if you ever get stuck, just ping me.