[Ace's POV]
As we walked, I watched Ovelia out of the corner of my eye. Every few steps, a stray lock of her long, blonde hair would escape and drift toward her face, threatening to dip into the remains of her puto bumbong. She would make a soft, frustrated sound and tuck it behind her ear with her free hand, only for it to slip free again moments later. The repetitive, unconscious gesture was a small, endearing battle she was losing.
From a nearby stall, a flash of polished metal caught my eye. It was a stall selling hair accessories. The female merchant was demonstrating her wares, deftly twisting a customer's hair into an elegant knot and securing it with an ornate pin. A simple, practical solution presented itself.
"Ovelia," I said, my voice pulling her from her focused chewing.
She looked up at me, her mouth still full, her red eyes wide with question. A bit of shredded coconut clung to her lower lip.
