When he showed up at the farm, I half-expected him to be smug about me asking for his help. I was wrong. He was worse.

Before I could say anything, he was already shaking hands with Farmer Smith, promising to fix the sign "for free."

He even said it while staring at me, as if the person he was talking to wasn't right in front of him. His main agenda was clearly to make my day miserable.

Now, we were at the art supply shop in the village square, looking for the things he needed—and might need—because apparently, he loves to splurge.

"Do we really need five brushes?" I asked, scratching my head with the end of a brush I was holding.

"Of course. Each one has a purpose. This one's for base, this one's for the letters, this one's for finesse, this one's for flair, and this one's for—"

"For wasting money." I finished his sentence, not wanting to hear his artist bullshit. I turned away, pretending to browse.

I've never even seen his paintings before. I just thought about him the moment I heard "paint" without knowing what to expect from him.

I dropped onto a bench beside the shop window.

It's barely nine, and sunlight spills through the shop windows. People chattered and promoted their products to the locals—so different from the city's noise.

I looked outside. It was even more beautiful than it had sounded.

A few kids chased each other across the square, laughing and full of energy. I smiled bitterly. Kaiden never ran like that, even as a kid.

Neither did I.

WOOF! WOOF!

I jumped back, hand flying to my chest as a black police dog lunged at the window. It barked so hard the glass rattled, fogging the spot where my face had been. A frayed leash dangled from a nail, and it barely held the dog back.

Its burly owner, who also ran the shop, stumbled after it, raising a slipper like a weapon.

"¡Atrás, Chispa! ¡Ay, por Dios!" He yelled and went outside to smack her butt lightly before turning to me. "I'm so sorry, señor! Chispa likes you. She only eats bad guys."

Like I'd believe that. If it only "eats" bad guys, then it could've broken through the window and munched on Akio instead of giving me a heart attack.

"Aiden!" Akio rushed to me from the aisle, checking me over like I'd been mauled. "Are you hurt?" His eyes locked on mine as if he'd lose me any second.

I pushed his face away, then walked out—ignoring both of them.

I heard the owner apologizing to Akio, and Akio told him it was fine while my heart was still pounding out of my chest.

It wasn't fine. More than terrified, I felt stupid. I'd been staring out that window like I was in a music video. It could've been worse if Akio had seen me.

I scanned the shop for something fun. In a corner, there was a section dedicated to collectibles I hadn't noticed earlier.

There were mini snow globes in a glass cabinet. Each one had a different scene inside. Some aren't even "snow" globes—some of them are summer-themed or fall-themed or something weird.

My eyes were stuck on a particular one. There was one with a small raccoon and a garbage bin. I took it and shook it—amazed by how some little garbage floated around inside.

I looked around and stared at it again. Then, I stuffed it into my pocket like it belonged there. My heartbeat rose, and I could feel my nape turn hot.

Even so, I don't plan to return it to its place.

When I turned, I bumped into Akio's chest. He was staring at me, confused.

My eyes widened; I think he caught me.

I stepped back, scratching the back of my head as he stepped forward. Then he touched my cheek with his warm hand.

"Are you sure you're fine?"

He asked with all performative concern.

"Stop being overdramatic. It's annoying." I swatted his hand away.

I caught his eyes flick down to the bulge in my pocket, the snow globe peeking from the opening, and I tried to cover it with my hand.

Then, he bent his knees to level our faces before saying, "Do you like snow globes?"

Every nerve in my body screamed to act normal—but I couldn't remember how. Cold sweat slid down my temple. My chin trembled at the thought of him shaming me because of what I had done.

But he just pinched my cheeks and smiled.

"Cute," he said, hands still not letting go of my face.

I didn't know what to do. He knew—I was sure he knew—but instead of calling me out, the only thought of it as a joke. And somehow, that felt worse.

"Señor," the owner called Akio from the counter.

Turns out he had finished shopping for supplies, and he had his items checked out.

He paid for it while I waited for him outside.

The dog—the one named Chispa—was trying to break free from its leash. I glanced at the nail anchoring her to the post, then smirked.

"You think you're so scary? You can't even break free from that pathetic nail holding you back." I mocked it.

Chispa seemed to understand me; she barked loudly and shook herself so hard the leash strained. And I swear I could see the nail about to surrender.

"¡Chispa! ¿Qué te pasa?" The owner, along with Akio, came out of the shop. "I'm sorry, she never does this unless there's a thief," he added, trying to calm his dog down—then he paused, as if he realized something.

The owner glanced down at my pocket.

I could only swallow the lump in my throat as I clutched the snow globe in my pocket.

Akio came up to me and placed his hand on my back, while his other hand held a bag filled with supplies. We walked away from the shop, thinking everything was done.

But I couldn't help but look back at the owner, who looked like he was plotting something.

"Do you want something before we come back?" Akio asked me, but he noticed I wasn't paying attention to him, so he glanced back at the owner.

Then, he leaned closer to my ear. "Can you run?"

Hearing that, I knew something was about to happen. I ran before Akio could even say so.

"¡Atácalos, Chispa!" The owner yelled, and I could almost hear the dog's footsteps as it ran towards us.

Akio was right behind me. The clatter of claws scraped against the pavement, getting louder and faster. I didn't dare look back, but the growls told me it was close.

"Left!" Akio shouted.

I turned the corner, but the alley ended in a dead end. My chest tightened. Akio grabbed a trash can lid from the side and spun around just as the dog lunged. The clang echoed when metal hit teeth. Chispa fell back, whining, then barked even louder.

"Run, Aiden!" he said, pushing me forward with one hand while keeping the lid between him and the dog.

I stumbled ahead, my lungs burning. Akio finally caught up, tossing the bent lid aside once he reached the truck parked at the village square's entrance.

We went in, gasping. My face is red as adrenaline met my shame.

He wiped the dirt off his white sleeve as he leaned back in the seat. "Are you okay?"

That was the third time he'd asked me that today.

I turned to him, glare trembling. "I know you're disgusted."

Because of my stupid habit, we almost got killed.

"Disgusted with what?" he said, smiling as he cupped my face. "Why would I be?"

"You know I stole something," I muttered. "Don't act stupid."

He went silent for a moment. Letting go of me as he leaned on the seat, inhaling deeply before letting out a long and loud laugh.

I stared, not knowing what to do, slowly sitting properly as I clutched the steering wheel.

Usually, when people catch me stealing, they react the same way the shop owner does.

"Because of that?!" Then he laughed some more until he got tired. He even wiped tears from his eyes. "I thought you heard me?" He paused, then glanced at me after calming himself down. "I told you. It's cute."

"You're probably acting like that because you're guilty of what you've done to me." I paused. "You don't need to act like that. Just act normally. I get it."

The silence after that was suffocating. I couldn't look at his expression.

I'm sick of people looking at me like garbage. And Akio, no matter how he pretends, he's still one of them.

Suddenly, he gripped my arm, his head hung, and he breathed deeply as I heard him chuckle under his breath.

"You don't get it." He looked up at me, flushed and smirked, his eyes looking somewhat delirious. "You really don't get me."

Then, he pulled me closer to him until our lips met. My eyes widened, and his hand slid on the back of my neck to keep me there.

I wanted to shove him away, but my body didn't get the memo. When his breath hit mine, I stopped thinking. The anger, the shame, the pounding in my chest—they melted, replaced with the tingling in my stomach.

Before I knew it, I slung my arm over his shoulder and started responding to the movement of his lips. He's warm, and for once, I don't feel hated.

And I wanted it to last a little longer.

WOOF!!! WOOF!!!

The truck jolted from the outside. We froze, still breathless, and his hand still at the back of my neck.

"Let's leave," Akio whispered. Through the window, a blur of black fur flashed past. The dog had caught up.

The sound of claws scraped the metal door. I flinched.

Akio turned the key. The engine coughed once, then roared to life.

"Drive, Aiden," he said, eyes forward this time.

I obeyed without a word.

The tires spun, kicking up dirt as we sped down the narrow road, the barking fading behind us.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The wind filled the silence, and I stared at my hand gripping the wheel, shaking—from the dog or from whatever had happened between us.

The road was quiet except for my breathing. I didn't want to see Akio's face. I didn't want him to see mine.

He only leaned against the window, ears flushed red, and couldn't look at me, holding the bag of supplies he had bought.

What happened between us was sudden, but I felt lighter around him after that.