To Love Nothing

"This looks important to her. It'd be a shame if she lost it forever," he muttered to himself.

Kiet tried shouting; no response. Damn, she's in the zone. She kinda reminds him of himself.

He followed after her, keeping a steady pace, until she slowed down for a break at a bench overlooking the forest. He walked up and tapped her shoulder. And in a split second, she spun around and twisted his arm behind his back.

"You tryna die today?" Her voice was menacing—yet oddly alluring.

Kiet's arm screamed in agony, but some part of his brain still admired her form—the pivot of her hips, the way she'd locked his elbow without even looking. Whoever taught her was properly trained.

"Wait—wait!" He winced with each nudge.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't smash your face into the ground." She twisted his arm harder.

"Y-you dropped this!" He held up the charm with his free hand.

Seon-hwa glanced at the charm, then back at him. She loosened her grip slightly, uncertainty creeping into her expression. Kiet didn't dare move. One wrong twitch, and he'd be tasting dirt for days.

She released him and took back the charm, her expression softening a bit. Stepping back, she tucked it into a black backpack resting on the bench. "Thanks."

He flashed a smile, hoping to look less suspicious. "Sorry, I snuck up on you. Sometimes I kinda go into this weird autopilot mode, like—" He huffed a laugh at himself, scratching the back of his head. A stray curl slipped from his bun.

"So, uhh...my brain locks onto something and forgets that everything else exists. It's gotten me into some...wild situations."

Seon-hwa didn't buy it. But the guy looked more like a knucklehead than a threat. She sucked her teeth and scanned the area for cameras. "This gotta be a dumb prank." Her sharp gaze snapped back to him. "You doing this for the Vine?"

"I swear it isn't," Kiet rubbed his shoulder. "Besides, I'm too grown to be out here pulling pranks for five seconds of fame. I got bigger dreams than that."

The tension in Seon-hwa's shoulders eased. He looked harmless enough. "I'll let your little 'mistake' slide. This time."

"I'm Kiet, by the way." He offered a gentle smile. "And you're?"

That damn smile. It had no business being that charming. "Seon-hwa," she said, keeping a straight face.

"Seon-hwa…" Her name rolled off his tongue with surprising ease. "It suits you."

He didn't butcher her name. And the way he said it was kinda—

No, Seon-hwa. Don't go there. Not yet.

"My gramps on my dad's side named me," she said, a small smile twitching at her lips. "You should see my name written in Hanja. It looks like something straight out of a classical Chinese poem."

"I'm sure he put a lot of thought into it," Kiet said.

Her voice softened. "That sentimental old man dreamed of two stars in the night sky guiding a stranded woman out of the wilderness."

Kiet went quiet, caught up in her words. He let the silence sit a second too long before he shook it off. "So you're a romantic," he teased. "I see where you got it from."

Something in Seon-hwa's chest did a slow flip, unwelcome and warm. Fuck. Get it together. "Now you're just saying anything," she said.

"Your Big Dipper charm tells me otherwise," He gestured toward her bag.

"Okay, know-it-all. What else do you know?" she snarked.

He stepped closer, but kept a safe distance, just in case. "You're mixed, right?"

Seon-hwa raised an eyebrow, caught off guard—not by the question itself, but by how casually he dropped it, like he already knew the answer and just wanted to hear her say it. She crossed her arms, amused. "Go ahead. Guess."

"Imma take a wild guess…" He stroked his chin. "Your mama's Black."

"Actually, she's half Black," she admitted.

Kiet snapped his fingers, pleased with himself. "Clocked it!"

Seon-hwa smirked. "What gave it away?"

"It's the cadence of your voice and the way you carry yourself. You remind me of the women I grew up around." His gaze trailed down, admiring her figure. "And those curves...I bet you got them from your mama."

He wasn't entirely wrong. Most of her mannerisms came from the women on her mom's side, so she'd let him have the win.

"Do you always pick up chicks with that corny line?" she asked, her tone more playful than intended.

"It worked, though." A sly expression crossed his face.

Damn. He got her—his dimples were diabolical. Seon-hwa's guarded expression cracked into something warmer; her amber eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

She's the one, Kiet thought with certainty.

"Run some laps with me," she suggested, glancing at the trail behind her. Other hikers dotted the path, too absorbed in their own workouts to spare the two a second glance.

"If I keep up with you, will you give me your number?" He batted his pretty lashes like a peacock showing off its tail feathers.

Okay, that was cute in a cornball type of way. It worked on her more than she wanted to admit. "We'll see," she said with a grin.

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