May 3rd, 2024 — 8:15 AM
Aurora Central Hub — Planning Bay 2
Matthew stood in front of the touchscreen display wall, stylus in hand, pretending to study the updated segnt overlay for the Mindanao Avenue interchange. On the surface, he looked like the usual version of himself—focused, neatly put-together, quietly analytical.
But inside?
Inside, his brain was still tangled up in milk tea and wedding scaffolding.
Across the room, Angel was leaning over a layout table with a junior analyst, walking them through how not to accidentally reverse a northern bore path schedule. Her tone was patient, her posture casual, but she kept glancing up at him, and every ti their eyes t, she smirked like she knew.
Which, of course, she did.
Because she was Angel and if there was one thing she never missed, it was him flustering under pressure.
Matthew looked back down at the overlay screen and muttered under his breath, "God help , I'm going to start color-coding a wedding tiline."
He didn't realize she'd crossed the room until she bumped his hip with hers.
"What was that?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
Matthew didn't miss a beat. "Nothing. Totally normal infrastructure musings."
"Right." Angel looked at the screen. "You marked the depot site as 'Reception?'"
He blinked. Looked again. He had.
"Oh my god."
Angel laughed, leaning into him just enough for her shoulder to press against his. "You're lucky I find this adorable."
"I'm losing my edge," he muttered.
"You never had one," she teased. "Just well-pressed suits and spreadsheet swagger."
Matthew turned slightly to face her. "You know if we actually go through with this, we're going to have to tell people soon."
"Mm. The team already suspects."
"They do?"
She tilted her head. "Matthew, we started arriving at HQ at the sa ti. We've shared three milk teas in public. And you let reorganize your entire Confluence dashboard without protest."
He blinked. "That last one felt intimate."
Angel shrugged. "It was."
He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Okay. So how do we tell them?"
Angel grinned. "Gently. Like easing commuters into a titable change. Preferably with diagrams."
—
10:30 AM — Breakout Room 6C
The planning team was halfway through their weekly cross-district update, which mostly consisted of everyone trying not to fall asleep while engineers from various hubs presented project status slides.
Matthew and Angel sat side-by-side at the back of the room, quietly listening as a team from Ortigas explained a minor delay due to utility rerouting. Angel passed him her tablet under the table. He glanced down and saw a freshly drawn mockup of a wedding invite titled:
Angel & Matthew's Shared Operations Ceremony "Launching a lifeti of alignnt."
Below it was a bullet-point breakdown of deliverables, a note about on-site Wi-Fi, and a schedule buffer "in case Matthew panics."
He nearly choked on his coffee.
Angel leaned over and whispered, "I'm testing reactions."
"You're dangerous," he whispered back.
"I'm innovative."
He handed the tablet back, cheeks warm.
The truth was—it didn't scare him anymore. Not really. The idea of marrying her? It wasn't sothing he felt unprepared for. Just unfamiliar. Like a new station you hadn't seen on the map until one day, you realized you'd already arrived there.
—
12:15 PM — Sentinel HQ Cafeteria, Outdoor Patio
They took their lunch outside, escaping the buzz of the building for a quieter breeze and half-shade. Angel picked at a bowl of salad. Matthew stabbed at his grilled chicken like it had personally offended him.
"You're quiet," she said, glancing at him.
He looked up, thoughtful. "I'm thinking about the venue."
Angel blinked. "I was joking, Matthew."
"I'm not," he replied. "I an… we don't have to finalize anything. But I was thinking—there's a heritage house in Taal. Stone courtyard, tree canopy, view of the lake. It's not a beach, but it's peaceful. Secluded."
Angel lowered her fork. "You're serious."
He nodded.
And she smiled. Not the smirking, teasing kind. The warm, soft one—the smile she only used when sothing caught her off guard in the best way.
"That sounds… really nice."
Matthew shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Just early scoping."
Angel tilted her head. "You've already bookmarked it, haven't you?"
He sipped his water. "Possibly."
"Matthew."
"Fine. Yes. I called for availability."
She let out a short laugh. "You're worse than ."
"I've accepted it."
—
2:00 PM — Systems Integration eting, HQ East Wing
They sat through two hours of workflow handoffs, data packet syncing, and a deeply unnecessary thirty-slide presentation on fiber node redundancy. By the ti it ended, most of the team filed out with only barely stifled yawns.
As they stood to leave, Angel turned to Matthew and said, "You know, you might be the first man to propose through procurent docunts."
He blinked. "That wasn't a proposal."
She raised an eyebrow. "So you're waiting for…?"
"I don't know," he said honestly. "A less public place. One without engineers listening through the air vents."
Angel laughed. "Bold of you to assu I won't just beat you to it."
"Oh god," he muttered. "I'm dating a rogue proposal unit."
—
5:15 PM — Rockwell, Matthew's Apartnt
The day had finally slowed. Matthew unlocked the door to his apartnt, and Angel followed him in, kicking off her heels near the doorway. She headed straight for the couch and flopped down with a groan.
"Do you think we could just… elope?" she said into a pillow.
Matthew raised an eyebrow. "This morning you wanted seating charts. Now you want secret ceremonies?"
She peeked out from under the pillow. "I contain multitudes."
He dropped his bag by the kitchen counter and joined her, sitting at the edge of the couch and running a hand gently through her hair. "We don't have to figure it out tonight."
"No?" she murmured.
"No," he said. "Just tonight, we rest. Maybe order sothing unhealthy. Maybe watch a docuntary we'll forget halfway through."
Angel shifted until her head was in his lap, her eyes closing. "That sounds perfect."
"And tomorrow?"
She smiled without opening her eyes. "Tomorrow, we build again."
—
8:00 PM — Rockwell Balcony
Later, after takeout and half a bottle of wine, they sat on the balcony with a blanket around them, watching the city lights blink like stars trying to be noticed.
Angel leaned into his side. "You know… if we really do this, I want us to write our own vows."
Matthew tilted his head. "Dangerous move."
"Why?"
"Because I might accidentally quote an operations manual."
Angel smirked. "Then I'll counter with a poetic reading from the Pulse Line commissioning guide."
They both laughed softly, the sound muffled by the hum of the city below.
And in that warmth, that quiet partnership that felt more like a rhythm than a decision, they didn't need blueprints.
Just faith in each other.
And the promise that whatever they built, they'd build it together.
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