Chapter 4: Her "Chilly" Outfit

Blaine Jackson was lounging on the sofa, idly flipping through the pages of *Shibuya Fashion Weekly*. The magazine's glossy pages, filled with bold colors and eccentric styles, barely held his attention. He was just about to set it aside when movement caught his eye. 

A pair of pale, slender legs stepped into his peripheral vision. His brow furrowed. 

"Chloe Grace," he began, his voice edged with exasperation, "what are you—" 

He stopped mid-sentence. Standing there, freshly showered and wrapped in nothing but a towel, was Chloe. 

"Just finished my shower," she said breezily, as if her choice of attire—or lack thereof—was the most natural thing in the world. "My hair's still wet, so I thought I'd head downstairs and find a stylist to blow-dry it." 

"Downstairs? Like that?" Blaine's voice sharpened, his irritation mingled with disbelief. 

"What's wrong with it?" Chloe tilted her head, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders like delicate strands of silk. 

He let out a slow, incredulous sigh. "Have you completely lost your mind? You can't just stroll around in a towel. Do you even realize what kind of attention you'd draw?" His imagination conjured a vision of gawking strangers, and the thought sent a surge of annoyance through him. 

"But I've done this before," Chloe replied with a mischievous smile, clearly enjoying his discomfort. 

"Not anymore," Blaine snapped, his tone final. He couldn't quite articulate why her casual boldness rattled him so much. "Go put some clothes on before you catch a cold—or worse, someone else's attention." 

Chloe pouted, sinking onto the sofa beside him. "You're overreacting. Don't you think I look... I don't know, kind of sexy like this?" 

"Sexy?" Blaine shot her a glare. "Are you trying to get your hair dried or auditioning for a reality show?" 

She grinned, undeterred. "What if I said I was trying to seduce *you*?" 

Blaine nearly choked on his own breath. "You've officially lost it," he muttered, rubbing his temples as if her audacity gave him a headache. 

"Fine, don't take me seriously," Chloe huffed, flipping her damp hair over her shoulder. The motion sent tiny droplets flying—several landing squarely on Blaine's magazine and even splattering his face. 

"Chloe Grace!" he barked, glaring at her. "At this rate, you're going to catch pneumonia. Go change into something warmer. Now." 

"But my hair—" 

"—can be dried upstairs. There's a hair dryer in your room," he cut her off. 

"I don't know how to use it properly. Last time, I nearly turned my hair into a bird's nest," she admitted with a sheepish shrug. 

Blaine groaned, knowing full well she was playing him. "Fine. I'll dry it for you. But only if you go put on some real clothes first." 

"Deal!" Chloe chirped, leaping to her feet and darting toward her room. 

Blaine shook his head as he watched her retreating figure. "This girl..." he muttered under his breath, though the corners of his mouth quirked up despite himself. 

---

The quiet hum of the hair dryer filled the room as Blaine's fingers combed through Chloe's damp locks. The strands, soft as spun silk, slid effortlessly between his fingers. 

"Be still," he murmured when Chloe shifted slightly, her head tilting to glance at him. 

"I'm trying," she replied, a playful lilt in her voice. But the warmth of his hand against her scalp was oddly comforting, and she let out a soft, contented sigh. 

The sound caught Blaine off guard. His hand froze momentarily before he resumed drying her hair, careful to mask his reaction. 

"Chloe Grace," he said, breaking the silence. 

"Yeah?" 

"What are your plans after your program ends?" 

She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. "Why do you ask?" 

"Just curious," Blaine replied, though his tone betrayed a deeper concern. "Lily asked me to look out for you, but I can't keep doing that forever." 

Chloe's expression softened. "I haven't really thought that far ahead. I guess I figured... I'd ask you for advice." 

"Advice?" Blaine raised an eyebrow. "I'm not exactly a career counselor." 

"Maybe not, but you're all I've got," Chloe said quietly, her voice tinged with an honesty that made Blaine pause. 

"That's not true," he countered. "You've been doing fine on your own. I heard about your friends, your life in Japan..." 

"But it's not the same," she interrupted. "Losing Lily was like losing a part of myself. And after Grandma passed, she was all I had left. Now it's just me." Her voice wavered slightly, and Blaine felt a pang of guilt. 

"I'm not good at this kind of thing," he admitted after a long pause. "But for what it's worth, you're not alone. Not entirely." 

Chloe's eyes glistened as she turned to face him, her voice barely above a whisper. "You mean that?" 

"Yeah," Blaine said, his tone softening. "Just don't make me regret it by walking around in a towel again." 

Chloe laughed, the tension breaking like sunlight after a storm. "No promises."