Love In The Mist

Chapter 7 - The First Glimpse of Rivalry - Part 2

Ji-AH's POV

The sound of my notifications going off makes me glance at my phone. I'm lying on my bed, scrolling mindlessly through i********: when I see it. A message request.

From Ethan.

I freeze. My heart does this weird thing where it stumbles over itself before picking up speed. I sit up, gripping my phone a little too tightly as I stare at the tiny profile picture next to his name. It's him, alright. The same tousled dark hair, the easy grin I'd glimpsed earlier today, and those green eyes that had been way too distracting during our accidental walk together.

I hesitate before opening the message. It's just a message. No big deal. Right?

Ethan: Hey, hope I'm not being weird, but I figured I'd say hi.

I let out a breath. Short. Casual. Nothing that should make my stomach flip, yet here we are.

My fingers hover over the keyboard before I type out a response.

me: hi. not weird at all. you found me pretty fast tho lol

Almost instantly, the typing bubble appears. He was waiting for me to respond?

Ethan: Guilty. I was not able to get our conversation out of my mind, so curiously, I searched you up, found you, and I figured I'd shoot my shot.

Shoot his shot?

I bite my lip, trying to smother the smile threatening to form. There's something annoyingly charming about his confidence, the way he doesn't try to act like this was some random coincidence.

But then, almost involuntarily, my thoughts drift to Oliver.

Oliver, who I work with at the bookstore. Oliver, who is equally charming but in an entirely different way. He's quieter, more reserved, more the type to listen carefully and let his words settle before speaking. The kind of person who notices the little things—how I take my tea, which books I avoid shelving because they remind me of sad endings, how I hum when I'm deep in thought. He's steady, reliable, yet completely unreadable at times.

And Oliver is also Ethan's half-brother. Which makes this whole situation complicated.

I shake my head, bringing myself back to the present conversation.

me: fair enough. so, what's up?

Ethan: Nothing much. Just thinking about how you shared your thoughts with me earlier. It made me want to hear more.

I roll my eyes, even though I can't fight the warmth creeping up my neck.

me: You were surprisingly easy to talk to. I didn't even realize who started walking next to who.

Ethan: Even I didn't realize when it all started happening.

I shake my head, laughing softly.

Oliver would never text me like this. He'd probably just mention our walk the next time we worked the same shift, in his usual quiet, offhand way. He'd make some wry comment, maybe smirk a little if he caught me blushing, but he'd never be this direct. And yet, there had been moments—small ones, fleeting ones—when I felt like maybe, just maybe, he saw me the way I saw him.

Before I can overthink it, Ethan's next message pops up.

Ethan: Anyway, I was wondering if you'd be up for getting coffee sometime. You know, since we're apparently great at walking together, maybe we'd be great at sitting too. And you said you would some other time so...

I blink. My brain needs a second to process that. Is he... asking me out?

It shouldn't be a big deal. People go out for coffee all the time. Friends. Acquaintances. Two strangers who just happened to walk side by side for thirty minutes and had an oddly easy conversation about music, movies, and why people insist on running even when they're clearly miserable doing it.

But this feels different.

Not just because Ethan is attractive and confident and so effortlessly charming, but because of Oliver. Because saying yes to Ethan means I'm stepping into something that could tangle my feelings even more. What would Oliver think? Would he even care? Or would he just keep looking at me with that unreadable expression, the one that made me feel like he knew more than he let on?

I realize I've been staring at the message for way too long without responding.

me: are you always this smooth?

Ethan: Only when I'm actually interested. So, coffee?

I hesitate, but not because I don't want to. The truth is, I do. I want to see him again. I want to sit across from him and find out if he's just as easy to talk to when there isn't a path guiding us forward.

And that realization makes me a little nervous.

I think about Oliver again. About the quiet moments we've shared between bookshelves, about the way his fingers linger just a second too long when he hands me a novel. About the way I've caught him watching me when he thinks I'm not paying attention.

But Oliver has never made a move. And maybe he never will.

Ethan, on the other hand, is right here, waiting for my answer.

me: fine. one coffee.

Ethan: Deal. But fair warning—I'm ridiculously charming in person.

I shake my head, biting back another smile.

Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

Or maybe, it's about to get very, very complicated.