The wooden sign was finally done—simple, neat, and slightly crooked like its creator's patience.
"Watch your step," it read, though Aria Larkspur clearly had no intention of following that advice herself.
She crouched in the garden, pressing it into the soil with stubborn determination.
Ethan Vale stood nearby, holding an umbrella like a reluctant bodyguard who didn't sign up for emotional labor.
"Move," he said flatly. "You'll faint again and I'll get blamed."
Aria didn't even look up. "Relax. If I collapse, I'll make sure to do it dramatically. At least give you a personality for once."
…rude. Accurate, but rude.
She finally fixed the sign in place and stood, brushing dirt off her hands like she just completed a masterpiece worthy of a museum.
Then she turned, eyes bright, voice softer.
"Now when you see this… you'll remember me, right?"
For a split second, Ethan's gaze flickered.
It wasn't guilt.
It wasn't affection.
It was something far more inconvenient—hesitation.
He looked away first.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
—
They walked back slowly, sharing the umbrella.
Well… technically Ethan held it. Aria just occupied the space like she owned the weather.
Their shadows stretched long across the path.
Too close.
Too quiet.
Too… something.
Aria suddenly spoke.
"I don't remember much from before."
Ethan hummed. "You've said that."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Was I horrible to you?"
That made him pause.
"…Why would you think that?"
Aria stopped walking.
Then turned—fast.
Before he could react, her fingers grabbed his face and pulled his lips into an exaggerated smile.
"Because you look like this all the time."
Ethan froze.
Processing.
Confused.
Mildly offended.
"Congratulations," Aria added sweetly, "you smile like you're filing taxes."
He stepped back immediately, pulling away.
That tiny motion—barely noticeable—
—but she noticed.
Of course she did.
Her hand dropped.
Her expression didn't shatter.
It just… dimmed.
"Oh."
A quiet, almost laugh followed.
"Got it."
She stepped back to a safe distance, rebuilding that invisible wall with alarming speed.
"I have piano practice," she said lightly. "Try not to miss me too much."
Then she turned and walked away.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Just… gone.
Ethan stood there longer than necessary.
Which was already suspicious.
—
The piano started ten minutes later.
Smooth. Elegant. Controlled.
Too perfect.
Ethan returned inside, pretending not to care.
He lasted exactly seven minutes.
Then walked back toward the sound anyway.
"Pathetic," he muttered under his breath.
—
Inside the music room—
Aria wasn't playing anymore.
She had already switched to a recording and was sprawled comfortably, scrolling through her phone.
"Play something dramatic," she muttered lazily. "If he won't apologize, I'll emotionally harass him with background music."
The system voice in her head sighed.
"You are unbelievable."
"I am iconic," she corrected.
—
Next morning.
Fresh sunlight.
New attitude.
Maximum petty mode activated.
—
Ethan stepped out just in time to see Aria returning from a run.
White tracksuit. Hair tied. Light sweat catching the sunlight.
Effortlessly radiant.
Annoyingly so.
He almost called out—
Almost.
She walked right past him.
Didn't stop.
Didn't smile.
Just a small nod.
Cold. Polite. Distant.
The emotional equivalent of "seen at 9:42 AM."
Ethan lowered his hand slowly.
…that felt worse than shouting.
—
In the dining area, Aria sat sipping soy milk like a queen ignoring a fallen kingdom.
"Breakfast?" asked the cook, Mira aunty.
"Mini dumplings," Aria replied softly.
Didn't even glance upstairs.
Didn't even pretend.
Savage.
Ethan paused mid-step.
Looked down.
Caught her sneaking a glance.
She immediately turned away, cheeks slightly puffed.
Annoyed.
Adorable.
He almost laughed.
Which was dangerous.
—
By the time he came downstairs again—
she was gone.
"Mira aunty, send my food to the piano room," her voice echoed from afar.
Ethan sat alone.
Silent.
Thinking.
Then said casually, "Send hers first."
Aunty blinked.
Oh.
Ohhh.
Understanding unlocked.
Couple fight detected.
—
When the tray reached Aria—
there was a single rose beside it.
Deep red. Fresh. Slightly dramatic.
She stared at it.
"…what is this?"
"A peace offering," aunty said cheerfully. "From Mr. Vale."
Aria scoffed instantly.
"He couldn't even say it himself?"
Aunty smiled knowingly. "He said he'll apologize tonight."
Aria picked up the rose.
Twirled it slowly.
Then smirked.
"Of course he will."
A pause.
A satisfied sigh.
"Honestly… I'm irresistible."
System: "…you're insufferable."
Aria grinned wider.
"Same thing."