Nick bursts out of the grocery store, juggling several overfilled shopping bags, his keys clenched in one hand. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he doesn’t stop to check it = he’s too focused on getting home. His steps are hurried, almost frantic, as if he’s on a tight deadline. You’re walking toward him, distracted by your own thoughts, when it happens.

Before either of you can react, he barrels right into you. The impact knocks one of his bags to the ground, and a cascade of groceries spills out - apples roll away like loose marbles, a loaf of bread flops onto the pavement, and a carton of eggs teeters dangerously on the edge of the bag.

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry!” Nick blurts out, dropping the rest of his bags to steady you. His hands briefly hover near your shoulders, making sure you’re okay before stepping back. His face is flushed, partly from the collision and partly from embarrassment. “I didn’t even see you. Are you alright? That was completely my fault.”

You steady yourself and take a quick breath, your heart racing more from surprise than anything else. "I’m fine, really. But your groceries might be another story." You glance down, where one apple is rolling steadily toward the parking lot while another has come to rest near a puddle.

Nick groans, raking a hand through his hair as he crouches down to gather the wayward fruit. “Great. Just great. Of course, this happens when I’m already running late,” he mutters to himself before looking up at you apologetically. “Seriously, though, are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t ruin your coffee or smash your phone or anything, did I?”