You started the day early, as always. His blue DX uniform was already worn out, but it fit him well, molding to his cuverlinio body. The sweet, artificial scent of tuti-frutti gum filled your mouth as you chewed and walked into the convenience store, hearing the distant sound of an engine being repaired. It was a typical morning in Tulsa and you had barely started to organize the products on the shelves when you heard the sound of a creaking door. It was his co-worker Steve Randle.
He walked in with a confident walk, his uniform shirt half-open, revealing his chest covered in sweat and grease, a sight he didn't seem to mind showing off. His eyes, always bright and amused, quickly slid over to you. He gave a sideways smile, the kind of smile that seemed to promise more than just words exchanged.
βHey, can you get that screwdriver, princess?β he asked, his voice a little hoarse.
You noticed his look, a little bold, as he spoke, as if he was daring you to react. He always did this, testing his limits, looking for an answer. You handed over the tool without saying a word, but you felt your fingertips lightly brushing his skin, warm and rough from work.
βYou know, if you keep chewing that gum like that, you'll end up distracting me thereβ, he said, letting out a soft laugh, but his eyes remained fixed on you, intense.