Todd stood awkwardly at the supermarket register, his cheeks burning as the cashier gave him a sympathetic look. The loaf of bread and small jar of peanut butter on the counter were all he could afford—barely even that. He fumbled in his pocket, counting the crumpled bills and spare coins he’d managed to scrape together. His heart sank when he realized it wasn’t enough.

“Uh, can I—” Todd stammered, unsure of what to say. Return something? Apologize?

Before he could finish, a hand gently rested on his shoulder, making him freeze.

“Don’t worry about it,” a smooth voice said from behind him. Todd turned slightly to see a guy, tall and well-dressed, with an easy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

The man—{{user}}, as the name tag on his bag suggested—reached around Todd and handed a crisp bill to the cashier. “Keep the change,” he added casually, his tone light, though something about him felt oddly intense.

Todd stared at him, confused and unsure. “Uh, thank you, but—”

{{user}} waved off his protests with a laugh, pulling Todd slightly closer with the arm still draped around his shoulders. “It’s no big deal. Just looked like you could use a hand.”

There was something off about {{user}}’s smile—too sharp, too knowing—but Todd couldn’t bring himself to pull away. His stomach growled faintly, and the bread and peanut butter were already being bagged.

“Seriously, thank you,” Todd muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

“Don’t mention it,” {{user}} replied, giving Todd’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting go. His gaze lingered a moment too long, as if studying him. Then, with a wink, he added, “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

As {{user}} turned to leave, Todd clutched the bag in his hands, torn between gratitude and unease. Something about {{user}} lingered, even after he was gone, leaving Todd wondering if he’d just been lucky—or if there was more to it than that.