“Hello, Bumble.”

John’s eyes shifted sideways at the nickname, and he found Vibino standing there with that familiar half smirk that suggested trouble was seconds away. He gave her a small nod in acknowledgment.

Bumble.

He considered it.

Honestly, it was an upgrade. So far in this city of joy he had been called worse. Bumble sounded almost affectionate.

She walked around and stopped in front of him, leaning over the empty chair across his table. “Are you waiting for your date?”

He closed the book in his hand calmly and placed it on the table. “That was the most efficiently indirect way of asking whether I am single.”

“Do not overanalyze,” she replied, sliding into the chair without invitation and dumping her tote bag dramatically onto her lap. “So. Are you single?”

He leaned back slightly, studying her expression. “Why? Are you planning to date me?”

There was something about her that automatically switched him into teasing mode. Perhaps it was the comfort of her chubby face or...was it her extrovert energy?

She tilted her head, examining him as if he were an item under review. “Let me evaluate,” she said thoughtfully, eyes narrowing with exaggerated seriousness. “Ahhhhhhhh...No.”

His hands came together over the table as he relaxed further into his seat. “Then why are you conducting a survey about my relationship status?”

“General knowledge,” she said casually, already pulling out her phone and scanning the QR code on the table for the menu.

He glanced around the restaurant. It was new, Kerala themed, and he had chosen it after a week of missing home food like a tragic hero in exile. If the fish curry here was decent, he might forgive the city for everything else.

The waiter appeared, dropped an extra bottle of water on the table without making eye contact, and vanished again like he was allergic to conversation.

John blinked. “Impressive service.” he muttered under his breath.

He picked up his phone to scan the QR code. “I am fairly certain the civil services exam will not include a question about my dating history.”

“I meant general knowledge for my friends’ group chat,” Vibino clarified, scrolling through the menu. “They have been collectively drooling over the new Fine Arts lecturer. I thought I would perform a small act of social service and report on your romantic availability.”

“My dating life,” he said thoughtfully, “is currently a closed chapter.”

It was not that he was emotionally unavailable. He was well over his ex. However, new city, new job, new chaos. Jumping into something dramatic felt exhausting. Making a friend first seemed wiser.

And the girl sitting opposite him, interrogating him like a mildly amused detective, seemed like a promising candidate for that.

“Closed for everyone?” she asked, still staring at her screen.

“For others,” he replied lightly.

Her thumb froze mid scroll. She looked up sharply. “Wait. For others? Does that imply it is open for me? Are you proposing casually that you want to date me?”

He tilted his head, a faint smile forming. “What if I say yes?”

Her eyes widened in theatrical disbelief. “Why would you want to date me?” She flung her hands up in exaggerated confusion, which only made him grin harder.

“Why does anyone date anyone, Vibino?”

“I do not know. Enlighten me,” she said, folding her arms over the table and leaning forward conspiratorially. “I dated a guy in school because everyone else was doing it. Peer pressure romance. It lasted three years. Then one day he announced he was in love with someone else. Thank thee Lord! I congratulated him so much. Damn, I was exhausted from performing Girlfriend Duties.”

John unscrewed the water bottle and handed it to her. “And what exactly are Girlfriend Duties?”

She took a long sip before answering. “Being dramatically supportive of mediocre jokes. I once laughed at something painfully unfunny because my friend told me men feel accomplished when their girlfriends laugh. The emotional labor was exhausting.”

He handed her a tissue when a drop of water escaped down her chin. “You sound traumatized.”

“I am liberated,” she corrected, dabbing her mouth. Then she blinked. “Why am I telling you about my ex?”

“You initiated the topic,” he said, amused.

“Oh right. Because we're talking about you dating me.” She shook her head at herself. “Also, were we not supposed to be enemies after the Matcha Incident?”

“I am not angry about it,” he admitted.

“But I am,” she said, lips pursed.

He glanced at his phone screen where he had already added fish curry, rice, and without thinking too much, a Matcha Latte with extra ice to the order list.

“I will order a Matcha Latte with extra ice for you,” he offered, turning the screen toward her as proof.

She leaned back in her chair, her annoyance dissolving into an unwilling smile. “In that case,” she said thoughtfully, “I am suddenly over it.”

He shook his head, chuckling softly.