INT- FIRE'S ROOM - APARTMENT
Before a disaster could start, I pulled my hands free and hopped off the bed. With all the grace of a rabbit escaping a wolf, I bolted back to the couch and blurted out the first thing I could think of.
"Ice, you have a gun!"
I pointed dramatically. "Scaaarryyy!"
He just turned to me with that usual nonchalant face, still holding back a sigh.
"Yes. Will you listen to me now?"
"No!" I stomped my foot like a stubborn child. "You can't just throw that thing around! That's dangerous!"
His brows twitched.
"How can you be so—" I paused, like he ran out of words. "Clumsy!" That's right. I said it.
He gave me one of those cold glares that practically screamed 'how dare you?' Honestly, I wish I didn't have the talent to read his expressions because now I was sure I was in trouble.
He started walking toward me. For a second, my heart jumped—I thought he was going to toss me straight out the window. Instead, he sat down next to me on the sofa and said flatly, "That was a fake one."
"Fake what?"
"Gun."
I blinked at him. "How can you fake that?"
"It was part of the school's agreement," he explained calmly. "We leaked a rumor so people would actually believe it."
My mouth dropped open. "But won't the parents report it?! That's insane!"
He leaned back, looking way too relaxed for the nonsense he was spouting. "Most of the brats here are uncontrollable in and out of school. The first ones to complain about that were the parents themselves. So, the last resort was to scare them straight."
I just stared. And stared. And stared.
Was I seriously supposed to drag every detail out of him like this?
Finally, I crossed my legs on the sofa, leaned over the cushion toward him, and demanded, "Wait. You mean the parents knew?!"
He nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Most of them agreed." His eyes flicked sideways, checking my reaction.
"But you'll look like the villain here!"
"Am I not already?" His lips curled into a smirk.
I opened my mouth to protest but… nothing came out. My brain betrayed me.
Then he leaned forward, closing the distance with a dangerous grin. "Aren't you scared of me?"
I leaned forward too, no way I was backing down.
"For your information, Icy," I glared at him, "you don't need a gun to scare me!"
And for the grand finale, I stuck out my tongue. Perfect comeback.
Then—escape!
Nope, not giving him a chance to retaliate. I bolted off the sofa.
"Walking disaster, get back here!"
He was definitely pissed.
Victory achieved!
EXT- FRONT OF SWEET DREAM CAFE
The thought of her never left him. No matter how he tried to push it aside, it clung to him like a pest—one that multiplied the more he tried to treat it.
The morning sun spilled against the glass walls of Sweet Dream Cafe as Ice approached the back entrance. He slipped inside quietly, the soft thud of the door closing behind him. The kitchen was already alive—staff weaving around each other, piping cream, dusting pastries, carefully decorating trays of sweets.
For the next two weeks, during the semester break, he would be here helping as usual. Two weeks of routine. Two weeks without Fire and her constant nags. The thought should have felt like an oasis, and he tried to convince himself of it.
But even as he tied his apron, his mind stayed clouded by her.
He felt a twinge of guilt. That night, she'd lied with a smile, saying it was "just a little" problem, that it wouldn't affect her much. He knew better now. Her face was her work—of course an injury would matter.
"Ice, can you bring this to the front?" one of the pastry chefs called.
He nodded, picked up the tray of cooled muffins, and carried them to the glass display counter. Sitting down, he began arranging the pastel-colored treats one by one, the sweet scent of sugar filling the air.
Will she be alright? The thought crept in again, uninvited. His rational side hated it, but the part of him that refused to let go gnawed away at his calm.
He leaned forward to adjust a cupcake when something caught his eye.
The glass reflection showed the inside of the shop and someone behind it. A girl, mop in hand, moving slowly across the floor.
His eyes stayed locked on her back. The uniform she wore… it wasn't theirs. A maid uniform. The kind straight out of anime. Fire had shoved enough references in his face for him to know it instantly.
Her figure was striking. Tall, slim, the cut of the outfit emphasizing every line. Her hair was short, brushing just past her shoulders in soft waves. If not for the hair, he might've thought–
No. That was impossible. Fire should be overseas right now.
Still, a strange unease twisted in his chest. Something about her presence felt too familiar.
"So pretty…" he heard one of the female customers whisper near the counter.
The girl kept mopping, weirdly he thought. Unaware of the glances she was drawing.
Ice straightened after finishing the tray, forcing himself to look away. I'm imagining things. I've been thinking about her too much. That's all. He turned back toward the kitchen.
The soft chime of the doorbells rang, a new customer stepping in.
And then—
"Welcome!"
That voice.
Ice froze mid-step, his breath catching in his throat. Every muscle locked as the sound wrapped around him, too familiar, too sharp to mistake. His fingers stiffened around the edge of the counter, and for a split second, the whole shop blurred out of focus.
It couldn't be.
It shouldn't be.
Yet the disbelief dragged his eyes back anyway—back to the girl in the ridiculous maid uniform, mop in hand, smiling as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
Next Chapter:
Ice swept my dream away! No—he didn't just sweep it, he stomped on it, shredded it into tiny pieces, and tossed it in the garbage.
Worst part? He turned it into a full-blown nightmare!
Ughhh, why is he so good at ruining every possible sweet dream I could ever have?!
…And why—WHY—does he look so annoyingly cute up close these days?!
Is it me? Is it the lighting? Or has my brain finally melted into pudding?!