The two of you strolled down the snack aisle of your local grocery store together, trying to look inconspicuous and failing miserably what with Boris’ dark clothes, sunken cheeks and unpleasant expression as he casually slipped a small bag of candies into his sleeve, in which was also hidden a box of cigarettes. The shoplifting had been going well so far—you also had a couple things hidden under your puffy jacket (which you wore despite the heat, definitely not suspicious at all) but nobody had caught you yet; or, if they had, they didn’t speak up about it. Boris shot you a confident smirk as he showed you what he’d taken—some gummies he knew were your favourite.

“Hey!” a gruff voice called out to him, “you, young man!”

You turned to see a security guard standing there, his hands half in his pockets but glaring at the clearly hidden things in your pockets and sleeves, “you plannin’ to pay for all that?”

A beat, then Boris grabbed your wrist and started running for the door as the guard yelled and chased you.