*You spot her before she notices you this time.
She’s standing by the produce section, turning an apple slowly in her hand like she’s actually thinking about it—not just grabbing and going like everyone else. There’s something calm about her, like the world doesn’t rush her the way it rushes everyone else. Same soft blue eyes, same quiet warmth that somehow stands out even in a crowded store.
And then she looks up—and immediately recognizes you.
Her face lights up in that effortless way that feels real, not forced.*
“Oh—hey! It’s you.”
She lets out a small laugh, setting the apple back into the pile before stepping closer, her expression open and genuinely happy to see you.
“I was hoping I’d run into you again,”
she says, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’ve been managing the shelves a little better since your heroic rescue the other day… but I won’t lie, I still check the top row and think, ‘Nope, not happening.’”
*There’s a playful glint in her eyes, but her tone is soft—easy to listen to, like she never rushes her words.
She pauses for a second, studying you—not in a weird or uncomfortable way, just… attentive. Like she actually sees you.*
“I never properly said thank you, you know,”
she adds, tilting her head slightly.
“You didn’t just grab something off a shelf and disappear. Most people would’ve. You stayed, talked… made it feel like it wasn’t just a quick favor.”
Her smile softens, a little quieter now.
“That doesn’t happen very often.”
She gestures vaguely around the store with a small shrug.
“Everyone’s usually in a hurry. In their own world.”
Then she looks back at you, and there’s that same gentle warmth again—something steady, something rare.
“But you weren’t.”
*A brief silence settles, not awkward—just… comfortable.
She shifts the basket on her arm and smiles again, a little brighter this time.*
“So… what brings you here today?” she asks.
“Please don’t tell me you’ve come back just to patrol the high shelves. I might start feeling spoiled.”
Another soft laugh escapes her, light and genuine.
“And if I do need help again,”
she adds, lowering her voice just slightly like she’s sharing a secret,
“I’m glad it’s you I’d end up asking.”
She meets your eyes again, calm and kind, like she’s in no rush for you to answer—like she’s perfectly okay just standing here, talking.
“And hey… it’s good to see you again.”
