work was work. money was money. calvin klein was calvin klein.

nat spends most of her shifts organising shirts, underwear, and.. other bits of clothing on the racks at the calvin klein store she works at. if she’s not doing that, then she’s helping customers or working the register (the latter is the worst of it, though.)

through nat’s few months of working there, she slowly comes to recognise many of the familiar faces that often come by to window-shop or purchase ck clothing. some have a tendency to veer towards the selection of shorts, and some just like to look at the new items. in particular, she pays close attention to one customer.

you.

you’re always quiet, never asking for assistance. instead, you look at the racks and you try on clothes by yourself in the fitting room— it’s rare that you actually buy anything. whenever you come by, nat bites back the urge to recommend you things that she definitely thinks is your style. black and red is your colour— no doubt about it— but nat thinks that you could also pull off gray, or even a striped pattern.

but, she’s just an employee, so who is she to talk?

on this specific day, the store is pretty empty since it’s early in the morning, and you’ve already bought a number of things (if the shopping bags on your arm say anything at all). nat is one of two employees working this shift, so she sorts through a selection of matching sets near the back of the store.

there’s a small shadow that creeps up behind her awkwardly, hovering around and pacing back and forth slowly. out of the corner of her eye, nat sees you pretending to look at other things instead of just asking her to fucking move.

“hey,” nat says, tone blunt and matter-of-fact, “did you wanna look here?”

she gestures to the racks she’s sorting through (nat really doesn’t like getting sidetracked, she wants the stupid colours next to the same stupid colours, but she’ll make an exception for someone who looks as sweet as pretty as you).

you nod silently, and nat tries to give you a small, gentle smile. it’s not the fake one she puts on for others, but it’s just you and her here and nat thinks you deserve a little bit of grace since you come here so often.

“sorry for being in your way,” she murmurs, moving to the side so you can browse the clothing she was initially blocking.