(Couple Names & Cold Wars)
If chaos had a favorite hobby, it was definitely messing with Aria Larkspur's perfectly staged plans.
Because just when she thought she had Ethan Vale exactly where she wanted him—softened, slightly confused, emotionally compromised—the man went and evolved.
Annoying.
—
Ethan had stopped restricting her phone.
Which, in Aria's opinion, was either:
1. A sign of trust
2. A sign of overconfidence
3. Or a sign he thought she was harmless
Spoiler: he was wrong on all three counts.
—
The afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of Vale Residence, painting everything gold and calm.
Too calm.
Aria sat cross-legged on the plush carpet, leaning lazily against Ethan's knee like she had no thoughts, no schemes, no hidden agendas.
Which was hilarious.
Because five seconds ago, she had mentally mapped out three different emotional manipulation strategies.
She held up her phone.
"Ethan, what should I name my account?"
He didn't even look up from the documents in his hand.
"Why suddenly?"
Aria blinked innocently. "Because I live in this century? Apparently people communicate using apps now. Revolutionary concept."
He finally glanced down.
"…Who told you?"
"Rhea."
Aria tilted her head, voice soft, almost thoughtful.
"She said it's inconvenient without one… and I'll go out more in the future anyway."
That sentence hit.
Ethan's fingers paused for a fraction of a second.
He didn't like that.
Not one bit.
In his world, "going out more" translated to: ➡ less control
➡ more variables
➡ potential problems
But outwardly?
Calm. Collected. Corporate ice king.
"Then register one."
Aria squinted at him.
"That's it? No lecture? No surveillance clause? No dramatic 'I'll assign ten bodyguards' speech?"
Ethan turned a page.
"Disappointed?"
She smirked. "A little. You're getting boring."
Savage.
—
A few minutes later…
Aria scooted closer, practically invading his personal space, then shoved the phone in his face.
"Look."
Ethan glanced.
Paused.
Looked again.
The screen showed her newly created profile.
Name: A
Profile picture: a soft sunset by the sea.
His expression shifted—barely noticeable, but there.
Because his own account?
Name: E
Same minimal style. Same vibe.
Same energy.
Aria grinned like she'd just committed a crime and gotten away with it.
"Well?"
Ethan raised a brow. "Copying me?"
She gasped. "Excuse me? This is called aesthetic alignment. Learn the difference."
He tapped her forehead lightly.
"I should charge you for creativity theft."
Aria rolled her eyes. "You don't understand romance at all."
"Enlighten me."
She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was revealing state secrets.
"This is called a couple name and matching profile."
—
Silence.
—
Ethan's heartbeat… did something weird.
Unacceptable.
Completely unnecessary.
Before that feeling could settle—
Aria added casually:
"Though I guess there's a generation gap. You might not get it."
…
There it was.
The insult.
Clean. Precise. Lethal.
Ethan smiled.
Dangerously.
"Oh?"
Before Aria could react—
He grabbed her ankle.
—
"HEY—?!"
In one smooth motion, she lost balance and half-fell back onto the carpet, arms scrambling behind her for support.
Now they were close.
Too close.
His hand still around her ankle.
Her leg slightly trapped.
Breathing… overlapping.
The atmosphere?
Suspicious.
Very suspicious.
Ethan's voice dropped.
"Say that again."
Aria, despite the position, refused to lose.
"Fact is fact. Rhea said three years is one gap. We have—what—seven?"
She pretended to calculate.
"That's like… two and a half gaps. Congratulations, you're practically ancient."
…
Ethan laughed.
Actually laughed.
"Ancient?"
Then, leaning closer—
"Older men take better care of people."
—
Aria froze for half a second.
Her ears turned red instantly.
System (internally): Critical hit.
She tried to pull her leg back.
"Let go."
"No."
"Ethan."
"Hmm?"
"…You're being weird."
"And you're being brave."
"Correction," she snapped, "I'm being honest."
He tightened his grip just slightly—
Then stopped.
Because—
"…Tch."
Aria flinched.
Ethan immediately released her.
There were faint red marks on her ankle.
Too delicate.
Too easy to bruise.
His expression shifted.
"…Does it hurt?"
Aria stood up quickly, brushing it off.
"It's fine."
(It was not fine. But dignity matters.)
He reached out instinctively, lightly pressing the area.
"…You're fragile."
She shot him a look.
"And you're annoying. We all have struggles."
—
She stepped back.
Reset.
Composed.
Mask back on.
"I'm going to practice piano."
Universal escape line.
Ethan watched her retreating figure, slightly amused.
Bold when teasing.
Shy when cornered.
Contradictory.
Interesting.
—
The moment Aria stepped outside—
Her expression flipped.
Completely.
"Fragile? Please," she muttered. "That's just system mechanics."
System: You literally flinched.
"Acting."
System: Sure.
—
Next morning.
Ethan had already left for Vale Cooperation.
Right on schedule.
Predictable.
Reliable.
Convenient.
—
Right on cue—
A loud honk echoed outside.
Aria stepped out to find Rhea Carter leaning dramatically against a car like she was in a music video.
"ARIIIAAA!"
Aria winced. "Why are you shouting like you're announcing a festival?"
"Because you finally escaped your golden cage," Rhea grinned.
"Relax," Aria said dryly. "It's a supervised escape."
—
As they walked out—
Rhea looked around the garden.
"Okay wow. This place is insane. Did you design this?"
"Partially. Marie helped with most of it."
Rhea stopped near the flowers.
"Wait—are those white orchids?"
Aria nodded.
"My dad tried growing those," Rhea said. "Killed them in three days. Legendary failure."
Aria laughed.
"If he wants, I can give him some."
"No thanks," Rhea said immediately. "I like your garden alive."
—
On the way to the ski resort—
Rhea asked casually, "You can ski, right?"
Aria looked out the window.
"A little."
—
Ten minutes later—
Rhea realized she had been lied to.
—
Because Aria wasn't "a little" good.
She was dangerous.
Graceful.
Sharp.
Effortless.
A red streak slicing through snow like she owned gravity.
Rhea stood there, stunned.
"…Excuse me?"
Aria stopped at the bottom, turning slightly, calm as ever.
"You coming?"
Rhea grabbed her gear immediately.
"Oh, you're not getting away with that."
—
At the top—
Rhea smirked.
"Let's make it interesting."
Aria raised a brow. "Go on."
"Loser does whatever winner asks."
Pause.
Aria smiled.
Sharp. Playful. Dangerous.
"As long as it's not unreasonable."
"Deal."
They took positions.
Snow. Silence. Tension.
Rhea leaned slightly.
"Ready?"
Aria tilted her head.
"Try to keep up."
—
And just like that—
They pushed off.
Game on.