Mian's POV (The First Meeting)
The rain was coming down so hard I could barely see past my own nose. I was hugging a grocery bag to my chest, trying to protect my bread and a few old journals I'd brought home to study. My glasses were a foggy mess.
I turned the corner toward the library entrance, walking fast, and then—thump.
I hit something that felt surprisingly firm. My groceries didn't stand a chance. The bag ripped, and I heard the unmistakable crunch of eggs hitting the sidewalk.
"Oh no, no, no..." I scrambled to my knees, my oversized sleeves soaking up the puddle water as I tried to save the journals first. They were more important than breakfast.
"Watch it!" a voice snapped.
I looked up, pushing my glasses back into place. Standing over me was a woman who looked like she'd stepped off a runway and onto a battlefield. She was tall—definitely taller than me—and she was wearing a trench coat that probably cost more than my life.
I felt tiny sitting there in the rain at her feet. I looked at her expensive leather boots, now covered in yellow egg yolk.
"I'm so sorry," I stammered, my face heating up. "I didn't see you. I'm—I'm a disaster in the rain."
I stood up quickly, but even standing at my full height, I had to look up slightly to meet her eyes. She was intimidatingly beautiful, but her expression was brittle, like she was one second away from breaking.
"You're soaking wet," she said. Her voice had lost its edge, replaced by a strange kind of surprise.
"So are you," I countered softly. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a dry, folded handkerchief. It smelled of the lavender I used to scent my drawers. I held it out to her. "Here. Please. Your face is... well, the rain is everywhere."
Evelyn's POV (The First Meeting)
I was in the middle of a silent breakdown when a ball of wet wool and paper slammed into my stomach.
I was ready to lash out. I was ready to be the "Vance" everyone feared. But then I looked down and saw him. He was small—not fragile, but compact and soft-looking in a sweater that was way too big for him. He was frantic about some old books, ignoring the mess of eggs on my boots.
"I'm so sorry," he said, scrambling up.
He stood there, dripping wet, looking up at me. He was just a little shorter than me, which made me feel even more like a giant, sharp-edged monster in his presence. His glasses were crooked, and he looked so genuinely worried about my shoes that I forgot I was supposed to be angry.
"You're soaking wet," I said. It was the only thing I could think of.
He didn't flinch. He just looked at me with these incredibly calm, kind eyes and handed me a cloth.
The scent hit me instantly. Lavender. It was so clean and peaceful that for a second, I forgot my uncle had just tried to ruin me. I took the handkerchief, my fingers brushing against his. His skin was warm despite the cold rain.
"I'm Mian," he said, giving me a shy, dimpled smile that made my heart skip a beat. "I work in the library right there. It's warm inside, and I was just about to make some tea. If you want to get out of the storm..."
I looked at him—this cute, gentle man who had literally bumped into my life—and I felt a pull I couldn't explain. I didn't want to go back to my empty penthouse or my cold office.
"I'm Evelyn," I said, my voice finally steady.
"Nice to meet you, Evelyn," he replied. He stepped toward the library doors, gesturing for me to follow. "The tea is a special blend. It helps with stress. And you look like you've had a lot of that today."
I followed him. I didn't even think about it. I just wanted to be near that smell of lavender and the quiet safety he seemed to carry around with him.