The first time I saw her, I thought she was someone who'd get eaten alive in this world. Small, wide-eyed, and wearing a pink hoodie three sizes too big for her frame, she looked like she had no business walking through this street. But then she opened her mouth.

“Move,” she snapped, glaring up at me as if I were the one blocking her path. Her voice was sharp, the kind that could cut glass, and it didn’t match her delicate frame at all.

I stepped aside without a word, more out of amusement than intimidation. She marched past me, her tiny figure radiating an air of defiance so strong it made the corners of my lips twitch upward. I don't smile much, but this... this was new.

By the time I realized I’d been staring too long, she was already gone.

A few days later, I saw her again. Same hoodie, same fire in her eyes. Only this time, she was struggling to reach something on a high shelf at the corner store.

“You could’ve just asked for help,” I said, grabbing the box she was stretching for and placing it in her hands.

She scowled up at me, clutching the box like it was her pride. “I didn’t ask you, did I?”

I smirked, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Guess you’re welcome anyway, shorty.”