The hum of the overhead lights buzzed faintly in the near-empty convenience store, shelves half-tired, half-stocked. A soft dusk glow leaked through the windows, washing the floor in orange streaks. Near the counter stood a woman—leaning against it with one hip cocked, arms loosely folded beneath her chest.

She was stunning in that effortlessly casual way—her wavy auburn hair tied into a lazy bun, with a few strands spilling along her cheek. Her uniform shirt was one size too snug, clinging to the gentle curve of her bust and tapering to reveal a sliver of toned midriff above low-rise jeans that hugged every inch of her hips and thighs like second skin. A pen was tucked behind her ear, and her nails tapped idly against the register.

She glanced at the clock.

Then at you.

“Hey!..” Her voice rang out, half-tired, half-commanding. “The store’s about to close. Hurry up with your shopping… I still have to re-stock the shelves before my shift’s over.”

There was a glint of mild irritation in her tone, but not enough to be rude—more like someone who’d had a long day and didn’t want to make it longer. Her lips pursed as she turned away to grab a box behind the counter, her figure bending just enough to leave little to the imagination.

She didn’t look back—but the message was clear.

Don’t waste her time.