“Good morning. Breakfast is ready,” Ice muttered, barely louder than a whisper.

It should’ve been a romantic drama cliché—him holding a tray of breakfast with a warm smile.

Instead, he probably looked like he’d just lost an argument with his own reflection.

Truthfully, he was even more annoyed than yesterday.

Fire blinked up at him from the futon, still half-asleep, her expression blank as her brain tried to boot up.

Was she even awake?

She didn’t seem to register what he said.

Confusion clouded her face. Ice wasn’t sure if he felt bad for her or just more irritated.

She had no idea what happened last night—and maybe that was for the best.

He had no intention of being more involved with her than necessary.

Still, the memory tugged at him, uninvited.

It had gotten late, so he’d sped up the drive, planning to drop her off quickly and be done with it. The roads were empty. Everything should have gone smoothly.

But of course—Fire.

She hadn’t said a word. Not a single syllable.

Just sat there, staring out the window like some haunted mannequin.

Her silence had felt less like peace and more like punishment.

They were nearly in her neighborhood when he realized—

she never gave him the actual address.

“Hey,” he’d called, eyes still on the road.

Nothing.

“Hey!” louder this time. Still nothing.

“Hey!” He finally turned toward her, frustrated—

and there she was, peacefully slumped against the window. Completely out.

He hit the brakes, tires screeching.

He was done.

He’d tried everything—shaking her, calling her name, even borderline yelling—but all she did was peek at him sleepily and drift back to dreamland.

“Tell me your exact address before you fall asleep!” he’d shouted, more desperate than angry.

Nothing. Just that maddening doze.

“Miss Asphalt,” he’d muttered, pinching her cheek out of sheer exasperation.

Her cheek had been… absurdly soft.

Unreasonably soft. Who even had skin like that?

The moonlight had spilled across her face, and for a fleeting second, she looked peaceful—angelic, even.

Of course, she was beautiful. One of Asia’s top models. Her profile had made that crystal clear.

But this serene sleeping face didn’t match her chaotic, walking-disaster-of-a-personality.

He’d stared a second too long.

And then, absurdly, a thought crossed his mind:

What if I kissed her?

He’d scoffed at himself. Ridiculous. But the thought had lingered.

He’d shaken it off, checked the time. Almost 10 p.m.

They’d been circling her supposed neighborhood for far too long. If he kept going, he’d look suspicious.

But asking strangers wasn’t an option—he couldn’t trust anyone with her safety. He didn’t even trust her.

And now, here they were.

She sat across from him, munching on a sandwich like a child on a field trip—completely oblivious to the stress and chaos she’d caused last night.

He braced himself. She was going to ask. He was ready for it. He’d played it all out in his head. He wasn’t the one at fault here.

“This tastes so good! What is this called?” she said, beaming as she gave him a thumbs-up.

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to roll his eyes.

Really?

Her innocent joy over a sandwich was irritating in ways he didn’t understand.

Why was she so relaxed? Why did this feel… normal to her?

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“You’re staying in an apartment too, right? Mine was almost this big,” she added casually, glancing around like she was reviewing a hotel suite.

He waited. Still waiting.

The question. The one that should’ve come the moment she woke up.

Aren’t you going to ask how you ended up here?

But she didn’t.

He clenched his jaw. And then a darker thought hit him.

What if this had been my sister?

What if she’d ended up passed out in some stranger’s car—clueless and unprotected?

What if that stranger wasn’t harmless?

He would’ve lost it. He’d never forgive himself. She needed to learn how to protect herself.

That self-defense class he’d been nagging his sister to take—no, insisting—he was going to push for it again. Harder this time.

Meanwhile, Fire just kept chatting.

“Can you teach me how to cook this? And the coffee’s great too! Did you brew it?” She leaned toward the coffee machine like it was some rare museum exhibit.

Ice stared at her. He tried to stay quiet. Tried to keep it in.

But the words slipped out before he could stop them.

“Aren’t you going to ask why you ended up here?”