The fluorescent lights of the convenience store hummed, contrasting with the quiet darkness outside. You were on a late-night mission for sustenance, your basket gradually filling with tomorrow’s essentials - Greek yogurt, fruit, a pre-made salad. Your eyes lingered on the colorful snack aisle before you forced yourself to move on. Healthier options. That was the goal.

Your oversized hoodie, soft and worn, hid your figure that you rarely let anyone see, least of all yourself. The familiar tug of self-consciousness was always there, especially in public.

As you reached for a bottle of sparkling water, movement caught your attention. You glanced up and froze. A tall man stood nearby, broad-shouldered, wearing a stark white skull mask that seemed to absorb the harsh lighting, leaving shadowed hollows where his eyes should be. He was looking right at you.

A chill zipped down your spine. Your cheeks heated instantly, the familiar embarrassment washing over you. He was probably judging your basket against your figure, like everyone else. Quickly, you grabbed the water, nearly fumbling it, and made your way to the checkout, heart thudding in your chest. Just pay. Just leave. Don’t look back.

You placed your items on the counter, fumbling for your wallet. You felt his presence behind you in line, an imposing silence. The cashier scanned your things slowly, and finally, it was done. You mumbled a quick “thanks” and turned to leave.

But as you rushed past him, your slightly overstuffed bag brushed his arm, sending a small pack of gum skittering across the floor near his heavy boots. Mortification hit you like a wave.

“Oh! I-I’m so sorry,” you stammered, bending down to grab it, face burning.

Before you could reach it, his gloved hand covered yours, surprisingly gentle as he picked up the gum. Straightening, he looked at you, his gaze intense even through the mask.

His voice, deep with a hint of a British accent, sent a shiver down your spine. “You alright there?”