Rosette blinked in surprise when she stepped out of the Masterson Foundation's rehabilitation facility.
"Red?" she said softly, her voice full of disbelief.
It had been months since she last saw him — not since his grandfather's trial. She knew he'd gone off for baseball training, but they'd lost touch when her phone broke. She didn't even have his new number.
Now, there he was — leaning casually against his car, sunlight touching his face, the same quiet confidence in his eyes.
Rosette froze for a moment before smiling. "What are you doing here? Have you been waiting long? How did you even know I was here?"
Her questions came in a rush. Dranred chuckled, his lips curving slightly.
"That smile again," she teased. "Did your three months of training take your voice away? So—how's the training? Keeping up with your new teammates?"
"I just missed that," Dranred said with a laugh. "The way you talk a mile a minute. I missed you. I just… needed to recharge."
Rosette laughed. "So that's why you came here? You're using me as your charger now?"
"If that's what it takes," he replied with a grin.
She tried to look away, but her smile gave her away. The truth was, she'd missed him too.
"Wait—how did you even know I was here? Did James tell you?"
"He wouldn't say a word," Dranred said, shaking his head. "But you seem to forget — I'm the founder of this foundation. Of course I know where my favorite volunteer works."
"Are you turning into a stalker now?" she teased.
"If it's you I'm stalking, I'll take my chances," he said lightly.
Rosette rolled her eyes, though her cheeks were warm. "If your fans see you here, they might get the wrong idea."
"It's safe," Dranred assured her, opening the car door with a small smile.
She raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you think you're doing?"
"Sorry," he said, still smiling. "If it's not too much trouble, let me drive you home. I'm already here anyway."
Rosette sighed — but couldn't hide her grin. "You really don't take no for an answer, do you?"
He met her gaze, eyes soft. "Not when it comes to you."
"I guess it's fine," Rosette said, glancing at her phone. "I'll just text James that he doesn't need to pick me up."
"How is he?" Dranred asked, starting the engine.
"He's good — they're preparing for the quarterfinals."
Rosette climbed into the passenger seat. Dranred smiled and closed the door gently before circling to his side.
"Seat belt," he said.
"Huh?" Rosette looked up, distracted, still typing.
"I said seat—" He stopped, then leaned closer. "Never mind. I'll do it."
Before she could react, Dranred reached across her to pull the seatbelt from her side. For a second, the space between them vanished — her breath caught, her fingers went still, and her phone nearly slipped from her hand.
His arm brushed past her, the soft click of the belt loud in the small silence. When she turned her head, his face was just inches from hers — close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath.
Rosette froze, eyes wide.
Then Dranred leaned back, grinning. "There. Safe and secure."
"Hey!" His voice broke through her daze. He gently tapped her shoulder. "You okay?"
"H-huh? Oh! Yeah. I'm fine." Her voice cracked slightly. She forced a smile, cheeks warm.
"All right," he said, laughter in his tone. "Let's go."
"Go?"
"Yeah — I did say I'd drive you home. You seem… distracted."
"Right. Of course."
As the car rolled forward, Rosette stared out the window, her thoughts spinning.
Stupid Rosette. What are you doing? You're so obvious.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't slow her heartbeat. That was the effect Dranred always had on her — steady, teasing, impossible to ignore.
The city lights flickered across the windshield as the car rolled through the quiet streets. A soft ballad played on the radio — the kind of song that filled the silence without asking for attention.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Rosette sat with her hands folded on her lap, sneaking glances at Dranred when she thought he wasn't looking. He looked calm, focused on the road — the usual confident air about him — but there was something gentler tonight, almost tired.
"So…" she finally said, breaking the silence. "Training must've been tough."
Dranred chuckled softly. "It was. Every morning felt like the start of a new war. But I needed that."
"Needed?"
He nodded. "After everything that happened… I just wanted to prove to myself that I could still stand for something good. Something clean."
Rosette looked at him, her expression softening. "You already did that, Red. You faced the truth, even when it hurt. That takes more strength than anything you'll do on the field."
For a moment, he didn't answer. His eyes stayed on the road, but his voice grew quieter.
"I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just running away — throwing myself into something so I don't have to think about… the past."
"Running away doesn't usually look like training twelve hours a day," she said gently. "Maybe you're just running toward something new."
He smiled at that — a small, grateful curve of his lips. "You always make things sound better."
"Well," she teased, "someone has to remind you not to overthink. That's kind of my job."
He laughed softly. "Yeah? And what's my job?"
Rosette tilted her head, pretending to think. "Hmm… maybe to make sure I don't forget how to smile."
Dranred turned to her just as the traffic light turned red. Their eyes met in the amber glow from the streetlamp — a long, quiet look that said all the things neither dared to voice.
"I missed this," he said finally, almost a whisper. "Talking to you. Hearing your voice."
Her heart gave a quick, treacherous skip. "You could've called, you know."
"I tried," he admitted. "Then I realized I didn't even have your number anymore."
Rosette laughed nervously. "Right. The phone I broke."
"I thought you were ignoring me," he said with mock seriousness.
"And why would I do that?"
He leaned back in his seat, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Because maybe… I made things a little complicated before I left."
Her breath caught. "You mean—"
"Yeah," he said softly. "That."
The light turned green. He shifted gears, eyes back on the road, leaving her to sit in the quiet rush of her own heartbeat.
Outside, the city blurred past — neon signs, passing headlights, the endless hum of life — but inside the car, the world felt smaller, warmer.
As they turned into her street, Rosette realized she didn't want the drive to end just yet.
When the car stopped in front of her house, neither of them moved right away.
"Thanks for the ride," she said finally, her voice quieter now.
"Anytime," he replied. "And Rosette?"
"Yes?"
He looked at her, the ghost of a smile touching his lips.
"Next time… I hope you'll let me stay long enough to hear you sing again."
She smiled — that soft, unguarded kind of smile that made him forget the noise of the world.
"Then you better make the national team," she said, half-teasing, half-serious. "Because the next time you see me sing, it'll be at the charity concert for the Foundation."
"Deal."
He watched as she stepped out of the car, waving goodbye before disappearing through the gate.
For a long while, Dranred stayed there, engine idling, the faint sound of her laughter still echoing in his head. Then he smiled to himself — quietly, meaningfully — and drove off into the night.