Zane Jennings stared at her resolute back. He took another bite of the candied hawthorn, chewing a few times, but it tasted like wax.
'It wasn't as sweet anymore.'
He tore his gaze away, found a trash can, and tossed the entire skewer of candied hawthorn into it. Without looking back, he continued up the mountain.
Zane Jennings was born with a proud streak. He had never once compromised or bowed his head for anyone, time and time again.
Further down the mountain, a few children were running up the path, glancing back as they ran. A row of tourists dodged to the side of the road to avoid them.
Erin Lowell stepped aside to dodge them, but her foot landed on a loose stone. There was a handrail nearby, so she didn't fall, but she twisted her ankle. A sharp, piercing pain shot through it.
She crouched down and rubbed her ankle for a moment.
Just as she was about to look up, a pair of black sneakers entered her vision, followed by a shadow falling over her.
Erin Lowell looked up, her gaze freezing.
The man who had clearly been heading up the mountain—the man she had glanced back at once—was now standing before her, a smile dancing in his eyes. "Can't even dodge a few kids, yet you act so tough with me."
He was proud, and he had been fully prepared to go up the mountain, but his feet had disobeyed him. He hadn't even made it three steps up a short, seven-step flight of stairs before his legs had turned around on their own.
The light of the sunset glowed on her eyelashes, making them shimmer as if starlight was woven into them.
Erin was a little surprised, and a little incredulous. "W-weren't you going up the mountain?"
"I don't know this area," he lied. "I was afraid I'd get lost if I went up."
"..."
Her hand was still on her ankle. Zane Jennings glanced at it and frowned slightly. "How is it? Can you still walk?"
Erin Lowell tried to move it. "It's probably nothing serious."
"'Probably?'"
Zane Jennings raised an eyebrow, straightening up from his half-crouched position and reaching out to scoop her up.
Erin's reflexes were excellent. She took a step back, deftly avoiding him. "What are you doing?"
He arched a brow, stating it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Aren't you going down the mountain? I'll carry you."
"I can walk by myself."
Zane grabbed her wrist. Seeing her try to pull away, he used a bit of strength to pull her closer. "I'm great at reading between the lines. When you say 'probably nothing serious,' that means it's definitely something."
He leaned in close, his breath laced with amusement. It was like the crisp autumn wind of September, buffeting her heart again and again, throwing her thoughts into turmoil.
Erin Lowell was keenly aware of the strange warmth on her wrist. She struggled twice to no avail. Her face flushed a little, perhaps from embarrassment. "I can manage on my own. Let me go first."
"Really nothing?"
She nodded repeatedly. "Yes."
Afraid of scaring her, Zane Jennings gently caressed her wrist. Against the warm evening breeze, he reluctantly let go. "Alright. If you say it's nothing, then it's nothing."
Erin tugged on her hood, deliberately avoiding his gaze. "Are you still going up?"
His hand felt around in his jacket pocket and found his pack of cigarettes. He squeezed it twice, then let go. "I got stood up. I'm not in the mood for sightseeing anymore."
Erin Lowell: "..."
Her sprain wasn't severe; it was probably just a minor strain. If circumstances allowed, a short rest would likely solve the problem completely.
But with someone following behind her, she felt constantly on edge. Erin tried to put all her weight on one foot.
Zane Jennings stood still, watching her limp. The roguish smile in his eyes was suppressed, replaced by a deep-seated gentleness.
He closed the distance in a few strides, bent down, and swept her up into his arms from behind. The smile in his eyes deepened. "You call this 'nothing'?"
Erin Lowell's heart skipped a beat. Her hood hid half her face. She turned her head to look at him, his warm breath tickling her ear as he spoke, making the tips of her ears burn.
"It's really nothing," she said, looking down. She knew she was the center of attention right now. "Put me down. I can walk."
"By the time you walk down this mountain on those two legs, you'll be in time to watch tomorrow's sunrise."
"..."
Erin Lowell's hand clutched at his arm, but she only managed to grab his jacket. Her fingertips trembled shyly. "Just put me down first."
'This is so awkward.'
Sensing her discomfort, Zane Jennings bent over and set her down, steadying her with his left leg. As evening set in, the sky darkened. Mist swirled around the mountainside, and a layer of coldness wrapped itself into the wind.
No one was heading up the mountain at this hour. The path was empty in both directions.
She backed away, creating some distance, and straightened out her clothes, which had bunched up.
Zane deliberately misinterpreted her. "You don't like being carried?"
As his voice fell on her ears, she looked up and saw him walk over and crouch in front of her.
"What are you doing now?"
He was crouching with one knee bent. From a distance, it almost looked like he was kneeling. "I'll carry you down on my back. Otherwise, it'll get dark soon, and some wild beast will come out and eat you."
"..."
"Are you always this kind to strangers?" She remembered their first meeting. A group of burly men had been blocking the alley entrance. If it hadn't been to get Ken Shaw to talk, she never would have had the guts to lure them in.
For a stranger, looking the other way would have been normal. But he was different.
'She was a mess. It was as if someone had gently blown on a deep gash, a sensation like a cat's light scratch—itchy and unsettling.'
The corner of Zane Jennings's eye lifted slightly, and his lips curved into a small smirk. His already wild aura intensified. "No. It depends on the person."
'It also depended on whether *he* wanted to.'
He could have walked away without a second glance. He could have continued on, carefree, to see the scenery he enjoyed. But he wanted to see her. The desire to see her—that raw, fiery feeling—was overwhelming.
He might have been proud before, but he'd thrown that pride away the moment he turned around and came back.
Erin Lowell's eyelid twitched. Her heart was pulled along with it, trembling violently. The wind blew down from the mountaintop, seeming to carry hidden thorns that pricked her heart ever so gently.
She suppressed her panic, refusing to dwell on the hidden meaning in his words. "You're a really good person."
Hearing this, Zane Jennings scoffed. "Don't you dare friend-zone me. I'm no 'good person.'" He patted his shoulder. "Get on."
Erin Lowell looked left and right. "Really, it's not necessary. I can walk now."
Afraid he wouldn't believe her, she walked in a small circle on the spot.
Zane didn't insist. He just stood up from the ground and brushed the dirt from his knee. There was no awkwardness, only a hint of disappointment. "Really okay? Don't come begging me to carry you later."
"You're ridiculous."
Erin Lowell walked ahead, her ears, hidden inside her sweatshirt hood, burning slightly.
The way down was faster than the way up. There were no other pedestrians on the path. She walked in front, and he followed behind. They didn't exchange any more words, but the air was woven with an unusually peaceful silence.
She walked slowly, her steps measured. Zane had undergone isolated training in the past; he'd seen his fair share of women. He'd seen those with superficial beauty and those with beauty that ran bone-deep.
Erin was beautiful, too, but she was different from those other women. The feeling she gave him was different. If you looked closely, her features were gentle, yet her expression was stunningly cool. Her aura was mild and detached, yet it also held a certain delicate charm.
Her facial features and that expression should have clashed, but on her, there was no sense of discord.
There was only another kind of unusual beauty, like a bewitching spirit from a painting. You couldn't look for too long, or you'd easily lose your heart and soul.