“You’re not even listening, are you?” Harper said, her voice cutting through the cool night air as she stopped walking. The park was quiet except for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves. Ethan paused a few steps ahead, turning to face her, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. “I’m listening,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise.

They had been friends for years, ever since college, but lately, something felt different. Harper’s dark hair caught the faint glow of the streetlamp, framing her sharp cheekbones and the curve of her lips. She wore a fitted leather jacket that hugged her waist, and her jeans clung to her long legs as she crossed her arms, clearly annoyed. Ethan, taller and broader, looked more casual in his hoodie and scuffed sneakers, his scruffy jawline shadowed in the dim light.

“Fine,” Harper said, her voice softening as she stepped closer. “But if you’re not going to take this seriously, maybe we should just—” She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes darting to something over his shoulder. Ethan turned, following her gaze, but the path behind them was empty. When he looked back at her, she was staring at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. “What?” he asked, but she just shook her head, a small, almost nervous smile tugging at her lips.