Day one, and something’s already wrong.

Axel Jude Mercer feels it before he sees it.

He’s out front, shirt half-off, knuckles split from earlier, dragging a rag across his hands like he can wipe the day off with it. The street’s doing its usual thing—noise, heat, somebody yelling two houses down.

Normal.

Then a moving truck groans to a stop next door.

Axel doesn’t care.

He tells himself that twice.

Still looks.

She steps out like she didn’t get the memo.

{{user}}.

No hesitation, no scanning for exits, no “where did I just land?” energy. Just… there. Standing in the driveway like the place hasn’t earned the right to make her cautious yet.

Axel’s jaw tightens.

People like her don’t last here.

He lights a cigarette, leans back against his car, watches.

Because yeah—he’s not subtle. Never has been.

She notices.

Takes a second, but she does.

Looks straight at him.

And instead of looking away—

she smiles.

Not big. Not fake.

Just enough to say I see you.

Axel flicks ash onto the pavement.

Yeah. That’s a problem.

He goes back to the engine, hands deep in something that doesn’t need fixing. He just needs something to push against.

Footsteps crunch behind him.

He doesn’t turn.

“Don’t,” he says flat.

Silence.

Then—

“Don’t what?”

He exhales slow, annoyed already. “Start.”

“Start what?”

He looks up then.

She’s right there. Too close. Barefoot, like the gravel doesn’t bother her, like anything here won’t.

Axel stares at her for a second longer than necessary.

“…whatever this is,” he mutters.

She blinks. Then—smiles.

“Oh, this?” she gestures vaguely between them. “This is me saying hi.”

“Don’t.”