This is cute ^~^
Linnie and Sammy bish
Why did the store have to put women's underwear on the edge of an aisle for all to see? Rows in, less visible to passersby, are layers of purses and socks. Why did they have to put the undergarments near the edge?
In reality, Lin shouldn't be embarrassed about having to buy bras in the first place, but there's nothing she can really do to stop her own embarrassment. Every time a person rounds the corner, she'd dart away from the promiscuous mannequins and pretend to look at the tables full of random watches. It's almost sad. There's no real reason to be so flustered.
Oh, but it only gets worse once she gets to checking out. There are only two registers open, and they're both grown men. She glanced down at her cart—piles of laced reds and blacks, padding and wire and straps she honestly don't understand the point of—covered with a large t-shirt dress she didn't even like just to mask it all. She looked back up. Both men were looking at her expectantly. One is the most attractive man she's sure she's ever seen, tall and slim, chiseled jaw tilted and black hair messily falling over his forehead. The other is older, middle-aged, extremely unattractive, and looking at her just a little bit too intensely. She didn't want to go down either aisle for completely different reasons, but on a whim she whipped the cart toward the handsome man.
She looked so out of it. She was so embarrassed, and she considered leaving her cart and just making a run for it. But no—She was a grown woman. She could buy sexy underwear without passing out in front of the hot employee.
"How are you doing today?" the man asks, and she almost squeaked. She doesn't. She smiled, happy for the distraction.
"I'm good, what about you?"
"I'm doing great," he responded nicely. she noticed now his eyes were this mesmerizing shade of brown, and she was so appreciative of the moment that she allowed herself to look into them. He stared back, almost concernedly, and she snapped out of it.
"Sorry," she mumbled and reached down to grab the hanger of the t-shirt dress. "I don't actually want this," she decided, handing it to him.
"Oh, okay," he says and turned to put it away behind him. Lin took the chance, snatching the bundle of wires and straps and tossing it onto the counter in front of her in one movement. She realized then that she probably should've done a better job of organizing the pile. That would mean less time waiting for him to de-tangle them. Oh no.
When he turned around, she saw the moment his eyes widen at the mound of awkward undergarments, and her cheeks turned red. Lin glanced away, toward the little screen reading 0.00$. She doesn't see his facial features soften.
When the screen says 12.99$, Lin managed to look back at him. Normally, she'd like to make conversation with the person ringing her up. She'd worked in retail too many years to know that just a pleasant customer could make someone's day. However, nothing she could come up with seems appropriate to say right then. She just watched his vein-y hands remove the hangers off of each and every item, tucking them neatly into a big blacked-out bag. She appreciated the opaque quality of it, though she doubt it was intentional of him.
Somehow, watching him pile her lingerie away slowly and delicately turned her on. It was the least sexy thing he could've done with a giant pile of insinuating clothing, but it still started to roll a bundle of heat in her belly. She fidgeted across the counter, playing with her nails and tracing the lines of the counter with the tips of her fingers. Looking back at him, she noticed his name-tag.
Sam Fehreint , it read.
"That'll be 128.56," he told her, and Lin swore there's a slight smirk playing on his lips. But she looked away quickly before she could get embarrassed again and shoved her card (which she had prepared minutes ago while she were fidgeting) into the machine. Once she was done, a receipt prints, and he snatched a pen. She figured she have to sign, but he wrote something down on it instead and shoved it into her bag. Handing it to Lin, he smirks confidently.
"Have a nice evening," he spoke smoothly. Something about it makes the fire inside her stomach inflame, and she looked him in the eye.
"You too." She took the bag.
Lin didn't realize how heavy she was breathing until she slipped herself down into her front seat. She took some deep breaths and remembered the receipt. She dug around in the big bag for it for a while, ruining Sam's hard work, and yanked the long receipt out.
It's written in red, all the way at the bottom.
Xxx-xxx-xxxx
I'd love to see how these look on you sometime
- Sam
Holy fuck.
