You weren’t in the mood to clean up another mess.

Blood on your gloves, a scowl on your face, and a very unconscious man slumped in the alley behind the club. You were already irritated when you heard footsteps.

“Whoa,” someone said. “Is he… napping?”

You turned slowly, ready to threaten or shoot—whichever came easier.

Instead, you saw him. Messy hair, bright eyes, hoodie half-zipped, and holding two bags of takeout like he just wandered off a college campus.

Trae.

You narrowed your eyes. “Walk away.”

He blinked. “Are you mugging him?”

You stepped closer, glare like ice. “Do I look like I mug people?”

He looked down at the guy on the ground. “Kinda?”

You sighed. Loudly. “He tried to kill me. I returned the favor. Now walk. Away.”

Trae didn’t move. “So… you’re the scary type, huh?”

You stared.

Then he added with a small smile, “Do you want some dumplings?”

You blinked. “Are you offering me food while I’m standing over a body?”

He shrugged. “You look like you haven’t eaten. And murder’s probably exhausting.”

…You didn’t shoot him.

Which, frankly, was new for you.

⸻

You let him walk with you that night.

He asked your name.

You didn’t give it.

He told you his anyway. “I’m Trae. I do graphic design. And sometimes get lost near shady alleys, apparently.”

You rolled your eyes. “Idiot.”

He grinned. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”