With my ripped shirt hanging off me like I'd just survived a full-on battlefield, I walked through the mall feeling like a walking disaster.
My lip stung, my glasses were crooked, and my hair? Let's just say even a tornado would've asked for tips.
People stared.
Of course they did.
I probably looked like the "before" picture in a life lesson.
I barely noticed any of it.
All I could feel was the weight pressing down on my chest.
Then—
Warmth.
Something heavy and soft draped over my shoulders.
A suit jacket.
It swallowed me whole, carrying a faint, clean scent that instantly grounded me.
I looked up.
Ethan.
His jaw was tight, eyes dark—locked on Regina and Isla like they had just committed a personal offense against him.
Not loud anger.
Worse.
Quiet.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
He pulled me slightly behind him, one hand steady at my arm.
"Regina," he called.
Not loud.
But it cut through everything.
She turned instantly.
Like she'd been waiting for him to say her name.
Her expression flipped—smile sweet, posture soft.
"Yes, Ethan…" she said, almost too quickly.
Ethan didn't smile.
Didn't blink.
He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers.
"If I ever see you touch her again," he said calmly, "you won't enjoy being here anymore."
The words were simple.
But they landed hard.
Regina's smile flickered.
For a second—just one—she looked uneasy.
Then she nodded.
"Of course," she said lightly, grabbing Isla's arm. "We were just leaving."
And just like that, they were gone.
The crowd dissolved.
Everyone suddenly had somewhere else to be.
I stood there, clutching the suit around me like it was the only thing holding me together.
Ethan turned back to me immediately.
His expression changed.
Not soft exactly…
But different.
His hands came up, gently steadying my shoulders.
"Ayana."
His voice dropped.
Lower.
Quieter.
"Look at me."
I blinked, slowly lifting my eyes to his.
His gaze searched my face—carefully, like he was checking for something he couldn't afford to miss.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
"I'm okay," I whispered, even though my voice betrayed me.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You're shaking."
"I'm not—"
"You are."
His grip tightened just a little—not enough to hurt, but enough to ground me.
For a moment, he just looked at me.
Really looked.
Like he was memorizing every detail.
Then he exhaled.
"You need to learn how to defend yourself," he said quietly.
I let out a weak sigh. "Yeah… I know."
"No," he said, sharper this time. "Not 'you know.' You will."
I blinked at him.
"…Okay, boss."
He ignored that.
Of course he did.
Instead, he reached for my hand.
Firm.
Steady.
And didn't let go.
We started walking.
His expression reset—back to that unreadable calm.
But his hand stayed wrapped around mine.
And somehow…
That said more than anything else.
—
"Maybe you should fight back next time," he said after a while, voice flat again.
I groaned. "Right. And then I get expelled and become a tragic legend."
He glanced at me briefly. "You already look like one."
"Wow. Supportive."
"You're welcome."
I rolled my eyes, adjusting my dress. "You know, some people would say 'you did great surviving.'"
"You didn't survive," he replied calmly. "You endured."
I paused.
"…That sounded deep."
"It wasn't."
"Liar."
He didn't respond.
But I caught the tiniest shift at the corner of his lips.
—
We walked past stores, lights reflecting off polished floors.
Then—
I saw him.
Nathan.
Bright smile.
Big poster.
"Sweet Treats Available!"
My mood instantly flipped.
"Nathan!" I called, waving.
Ethan's hand tightened.
Just slightly.
I didn't notice at first.
Until—
He stopped walking.
Which meant I stopped too.
I turned.
"Why did you—"
His hand slid from mine to my wrist.
Firm.
Unmoving.
"Don't go to him," he said quietly.
I frowned. "What?"
His eyes were locked ahead—on Nathan.
Sharp.
Focused.
"Ethan, let go," I said, trying to pull back.
He didn't.
Instead, he turned to me.
And this time—
He didn't look away.
His gaze met mine directly.
Serious.
Intense.
"Ayana," he said, voice lower than before. "Listen to me."
Something in my chest tightened.
"What?" I asked, softer now.
"He's not what you think."
I blinked. "He's… a baker."
Ethan didn't react.
"I'm serious," he said.
"And I'm serious too," I replied, pulling my arm slightly. "You're overreacting."
His grip loosened.
But didn't disappear.
"You don't understand," he said.
"Then explain," I shot back.
Silence.
His jaw tightened.
His eyes flickered—like he wanted to say something but couldn't.
Then—
"Just trust me," he said.
I sighed loudly. "That's not an explanation."
"It's enough."
"For you, maybe."
He stared at me.
And for a second—
Something slipped through.
Frustration.
Concern.
Something deeper.
"Why won't you just listen?" he asked quietly.
The way he said it—
It wasn't angry.
It was… almost tired.
I hesitated.
Just a little.
Then I crossed my arms.
"Because you're being dramatic."
That did it.
His expression shut down again.
"Fine," he said.
Cold.
Controlled.
"Go."
He stepped back.
But his eyes stayed on me.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
I hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then I turned.
Because of course I did.
I started walking toward Nathan.
Each step felt… heavier.
And I could feel it—
Ethan's gaze.
Still on me.
I turned slightly.
He was watching.
Not angry.
Not annoyed.
Just…
Focused.
Like he was waiting.
Like he already knew something I didn't.
I swallowed.
Then forced a smile and kept walking.
"Nathan!" I called.
He lit up instantly. "Hey! Ayana!"
"Your bakery looks amazing!" I said.
"Thanks! I was just—"
Suddenly—
A hand.
Back on my arm.
Stronger this time.
I flinched.
"Ethan—!"
"Don't," he said again.
Closer now.
His voice right near my ear.
Low.
Urgent.
I turned.
And this time—
We were really close.
His eyes locked onto mine.
No distance.
No distraction.
Just him.
"Ayana," he said, quieter now. "Last warning."
My heart skipped.
"Why?" I whispered.
He didn't answer immediately.
His gaze flicked to Nathan.
Then back to me.
And for a split second—
There was something in his eyes.
Not just concern.
Not just warning.
Something… protective.
Something that made my chest tighten.
"I don't want you getting hurt," he said finally.
Soft.
Honest.
Too honest.
I froze.
But then—
I shook my head.
"…It's just a bakery."
His expression fell.
Not dramatically.
Just… slightly.
"Okay," he said.
And this time—
He let go.
Completely.
I stepped forward.
Toward Nathan.
But even as I smiled—
Even as I spoke—
I could still feel it.
That look.
Burning quietly behind me.
Like a warning I chose to ignore.