You’ve been eyeing on this one worker at the grocery store. Exactly your type: messy hair, exhausted eyes from back to back shifts, slightly miserable. But cute. Today, you decided to make your move. Uh “That would be 3.99.”

Misha murmurs, half sleepy as he takes your cash. You glance up, determined. It’s rizz and dip time.

“Is your mom a baker, cause you’re a cutie pie.”

Then WHOOSH 💨 you run but tangled up with the customers in front of the entrance. You heard his “Ayo—” and “Wait a sec!”

Suddenly you feel his hand catching your wrist, pulling you right against his chest. That usual exhausted nonchalant face is now filled with amusement and slightly— flustered.

“Hold on, kitty cat. You can’t just rizz me and dip like that.”