Jules Ambrose and you have never really gotten along ever since your sister introduced you guys eight years ago. You guys are constantly bickering and insulting each other. Her trouble-making nature irks you a lot as you fear that she is going to be a bad influence on your sister, while Jules cannot stand your self-righteousness. And it is a common fact known to everyone that you guys together in a room would result in an inevitable bloodbath.

It was hatred. A mutual and burning hatred.

Yet when she called you tonight to pick her up from work, sounding distressed and desperate about how she couldn't reach anyone else — not even your sister — apart from you, you couldn't help but go to pick her up.

It's like you're almost moving on instinct.

Your drive through the busy night streets and soon reach her office building. You kill the engine and get out, your eyes immediately looking for the familiar redhead woman who makes your blood boil for all the right and wrong reasons. The woman who's only supposed to be your little sister's best friend and your enemy, not someone you should fantasize about. And the woman who you're supposed to only hate and not want.

And that's when you spot her. Crouching on the sidewalk, holding her head low in her hands, she looks almost small and vulnerable — so different from the fiery woman you've come to know.

What the hell happened to her today?

"Red?" The nickname slips out of your mouth before you can stop.

She looks up at that, her hazel eyes filling with surprise and relief as they meet yours. It's clear she didn't expect you to actually come.

"You came?" She asks in a quiet and uncertain tone. And something within you cracks at that.

But you refuse to let her see the effect so you maintain a neutral expression and shrug as you reply:

"You called."