This is for ambersky0319(on ao3), a 'Secret Santa' gift💖
(It was not supposed to be this long lmao)
Summary: Elizabeth has no clue what to buy Elaine for her birthday, leaving her to go shopping. Add her usual clumsiness to the mix-which leads her to a certain blonde boy-and she's determined as hell to buy the jacket before he can.
~~~~~
I'm screwed.
Utterly screwed.
The party's tomorrow and I don't know what else to buy Elaine.
'What a great friend,' I mutter under my breath, seeking the racks for any adequate clothing. I'd already bought her some stationery that she wants and a particular lavender perfume she never shuts up about. Diane and I also found a necklace that she'd love, a present from both of us.
That's never enough for one of your best friends. Elaine never fails to help us, always there when you need to cry and for great advice. Honestly, she looks like a little girl with her petite face, blonde locks and amber eyes, but she has the spirit of fire.
Which is why I'm shopping the day before her party, I've only got an hour or so left until I need to go home with her finished present.
What would Elaine like? She's not too fussy about her clothing, anything comfy is her style.
I sigh, turning right to find another corridor. The walls are cream, unlike other departments in this store, and they're adorned with smoothie posters. A chocolate one catches my attention and my stomach rumbles. Apart from that, there are racks and rows organised in a criss-cross pattern, upon them are numerous jackets. Puffy ones, small ones, hooded and non-hooded...Would she like a jacket?
Why not.
I place my hands out while I walk, touching the material of all the coats. She doesn't like fancy items, however, all these coats are full-on posh. Probably means their expensive too...
I wander, finding many items that look lovely(I might return later), but they don't seem right for Elaine.
"Elaine Elaine Elaine," I mutter under my breath, annoyance replacing the hunger creeping into my stomach. I've been searching for two months, now there are less than 24 hours to buy something and I'd rather not turn up to her party than arrive with a shameful gift.
It's just a present, calm down. She'll love whatever you get, you can't really-
I squint my eyes as something stands out, walking closer to the last red jacket in my vision. The crimson shade looks familiar, almost as if I've seen it before, and the buttons are embellished by delicate crystals. The entire design seems so...so...
BAN!
Doesn't he have a jacket with the same shade? He's wrapped in it all the time in school and since they're dating...
WOULDN'T IT BE CUTE TO HAVE A SIMILAR JACKET TO YOUR BOYFRIEND?!
YES! YES! YES! I mentally scream, a grin stretching across my lips, a wave of glee washes over me. Finally!
I rush towards the rack and stretch my hand out, it's right there, the perfect gift for Elaine, a few more inches and I can guarantee a happy party tomorrow AND a happy best friend! What more could I ask for?
"Ellie, make sure you don't come with any bandages on yourself," Elaine's voice giggled in my head, "we don't want a repeat of last time!"
"Oh yeah? I think the time she tripped over that blonde boy in town was even funnier-and then she ran off-" Diane joined in, their sandwiches lay forgotten in their laps as they recalled a few of my 'greatest' moments, "-I wish I'd recorded that, it's the reddest I've EVER seen your face," she turned to look at my now strawberry expression.
"I-It was an...an accident," I said quietly, a smile coating my face.
"Girliee, you got off him, handed him ten pounds as an apology and ran off," Diane finished the tale as Elaine snorted into her drink, "plus, he was sooo staring at your arse when you ran away," she finished with a wink.
I rolled my eyes, swiping at Diane's sandwich in revenge.
I know I'm gonna hit the marble floor before I trip. Doesn't destiny do that thing where it reminds you of something before you do it? Like when you die it gives you flashbacks of some of the happiest moments of your life?
I'm not dying(life won't get rid of me this easily), but my arms are so open and my feet aren't stable enough for me to get a hold of myself.
Make sure you don't come with any bandages.' Elaine's voice repeated, echoing softly.
Surely not bandages, just a grand purple bruise.
As my right foot catches onto something(it's the air) my arms flail helplessly. Technically speaking, I probably look like a chicken from an outsider's perspective. Hair flying everywhere, arms dancing and an inevitable fate to meet the solid floor.
3...
Everything happens in slow motion.
Peeking up, I see the jacket and determination swirls inside me like a bottomless pit. With or without a bruise, my only goal is to buy the damn jacket and stuff it into a gift bag. Elaine better be grateful.
2...
Silver hair hangs chaotically over my face, I think they're trying to cushion me from the laminated floor. How on earth are silver strands going to help?
Is that blonde hair to my left?
1-
...soft?
Yeah, very soft. I'm against something much softer than the floor could possibly be. And...warmer? It's a bit like a blanket has been wrapped around me, cocooning me from the outside world. And, for a mere 5 seconds, I feel safe.
In those 5 seconds, I realise that I can't see a single thing. Everything around me is dark and no light comes to view, no colours and no-
Oh, my eyes aren't open.
Cautiously, I blink them, adjusting to the sight in front of me.
I was not expecting this.
My nose is inches away from another; my hair fans around our heads, sort of like a barrier between us and everything else; my hand are on someone's body and by pressing a tiny bit harder, I can feel toned muscle through a shirt. Very very very toned muscle. I'm 1000000% my cheeks are pink(I really can't be blamed, any other girl would die to be me in my position), my eyes remain on my hands, staring at the chest they're on.
Wait...chest?
Ch-chest?!
...This has to be a guy?
Nibbling on the inside of my cheek, my gaze strays to a defined jawline. It's so tempting to touch, and my hand is so close to giving in. It looks sharp, does that mean it feels sharp? Or would it feel soft under my fingers?
I continue the journey-smooth cheeks, a nose and lips that are pulled up a tad, a wave of smugness radiates off the mystery guy now...I decide to overlook it.
Though it's possibly been around 10 seconds, it seems to take forever as my eyes roam to his.
Wow.
They're like orbs that hold every hue of a forest, every shade of green somehow put together in one. Flecks of clovers surround his pupils, and I decide that, no, his eyes aren't a forest.
They're emeralds, glinting in the sun.
For a few moments, they stare sincerely into my own, and I'm lost in a labyrinth of spring and hope, of mysteries and-and-
He's-he's smiling?
No, that's a pompous smirk.
Shiiit.
A squeak escapes my mouth as I try to scramble off of him, finally comprehending the situation. My hands on his chest push my face away from his own-if I'd leaned in a few more inches then our lips would've met. However, before I can get off, his hands find my hips and heat seeps through, making me stop.
I realise the position we're in.
He's on the floor, smirking up at me-his hands are holding my waist gently, yet firmly, and his eyes are focused solely on my own. As for me, my legs are straddling his hips, hands still on his chest. I silently thank the heavens for not having Diane here, she'd tease me endlessly and probably bring it up in front of the worst people.
"Beautiful as you are-" the guy whispers, his hands tightening slightly and an involuntary shiver leaves me. His emerald orbs are twinkling," I don't even know your name, and I'd rather not do this on a shop floor, ya know?"
I bink.
Once.
Twice.
Ohhh-
I leap off him like a banshee, face probably a tomato by now, standing straight like a metal pole while he picks himself up and wipes away at invisible dust on his sleeves-does he seem...disappointed? It's then that I notice his hair, which is practically a blonde mess, but a sudden urge develops inside to feel it in my hands, it looks so damn fluffy. Without my acknowledgement, my right hand reaches up a few inches-
"You alright?" A humoured voice asks.
Thank all of my forgotten teddy bears he interrupts what I was about to do.
"Uhh," I lower my hand awkwardly, looking at the blonde boy instead, his smile is...kind, "y-yeah, thanks. I didn't mean to-umm, well..."
He stares, with a soft expression, waiting patiently.
I sigh, for what's probably the 100th time today, "Sorry, I didn't mean to trip but...thank you."
A grin immediately covers his face. "Don't mention it!" His hand reaches to one of his pockets, after scavenging for some seconds, he pulls something out and stretches his hand to...me?
"This is for you."
"Huh?"
He opens his palm and I see a piece of paper with a shiny symbol in the corner.
"£10?" I ask, eyeing the note in his hands warily. Why was a random person handing me money?
"Yeahh," he says, chuckling, and it's like honey's flowing through my body, "you gave it to me a few months ago for no reason-so I've been holding onto it to give it back," he stretches his hand out further, urging me to take the note.
I don't recall giving anybody ten pounds, why on earth would-
Blonde hair.
The same blonde head with a stubborn cowlick that I had accidentally pushed into my breasts a few months ago.
This couldn't be...
I assume he's seen my awareness because his grin widens and he brings his other hand through his hair, ruffling it even more but the two strands remain persistent.
Oh god.
Not only my cheeks are burning, embarrassment floods through my veins and heat returns to my face, reminding myself of both the times I fell on him like a baby bird who can't fly.
I think he's trying to stifle a laugh because his lips weirdly He's still staring at my face, most likely waiting for a response.
"Uh-no. It's fine, you can keep it," I say, straightening a little and pushing his hand back to him.
Mr Blonde guy raises his brow, a grin on his face as if he's playing a game. "I insist," and he pushes his hand away from him, in my direction.
Unfortunately, my cheeks-which have just returned to their normal shade-start heating up again because our hands are touching.
Oh, how pathetic.
"I'm not taking it," I nudge his hand away, giving a hint for him to let go and take the money. All I need to do is buy the coat, maybe obtain a smoothie, and return home.
He analyses me, not dropping my hand. His eyes bore into mine and I rapidly glance away. "I'm gonna buy a jacket, then I'll leave-we can forget this happened," I mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
"What if I don't wanna forget?"
Snatching my hand away from his, I storm to the jacket in front of us, choosing to ignore the guy and escape the shop. I huff while grabbing the coat off its hanger, trying to return my cheeks to their normal shade when he says something behind me.
"I was gonna buy that jacket."
He WHAT?!
First, he teases me.
Second, he doesn't let go of my hand.
And, third, he-he...he...
URHGGHRGHRUGHR!
I take a deep breath and slowly turn around to face him, his face is stupidly cocky "I clearly reached the jacket first," my voice sounds a lot more confident than it did a minute ago.
"Buuuttt~" he grins cheekily, "I did save you."
"From what?"
"From the floor." It's said so simply as fact.
I flare my nostrils at him, trying to keep my temper down. What a jerk.
"Well, take the £10 as a token from me, yeah?" I retort, gripping the jacket closer to my chest.
"...but I don't want the money."
Calm down, you'll be out of here in no time. "I'm taking the jacket."
His eyebrows shoot up as he hums in approval, nodding his head along, "feisty too?" and that ludicrous grin returns to his face.
I pull a poker face but I don't think it's convincing. Blonde boy studies me again, eyes wandering down my form(not in a deviant way) and back up to me. We're immobile in our positions, neither one of us moving an inch.
He opens his mouth, "I do need that jacket though-"
"No."
"I bet my reason is more important than yours~"
"Yeah?" I quip, " I really don't care."
He contemplates something before smirking, hands sliding into his pockets and gives me his full attention. "How 'bout a deal?"
I raise a brow, as long as he'll leave me alone then I might just agree.
(Secretly, though, I'd love to feel that muscle again).
"Well, my name's Meliodas-"
"I never asked."
He chuckles and continues smoothly like I never interrupted him, "and I'll leave you with that jacket if you accept your money," he holds his hand out while I scrutinise it, "and..."
He trails off, not completing his sentence. All I need to do is accept the money-which could help me pay for the jacket-and one more thing in his deal to subsequently flee this damn shop.
Honestly, I would never do something like this. Accept a weird deal from a stranger-with an exceptionally cocky attitude? No way.
He's different from those guys that stare though, those guys whose gaze lingers on your body. A trustworthy vibe surrounds him that gives off warmth. Even though I'm acting hostile, it's only because I don't want to get enamoured by him. After today, I won't see Meliodas.
"and what?" I question.
"-and if we exchange numbers."
My face immediately snaps up to his, disbelief evident. I loosen my grasp on the jacket I'm holding, my mouth is currently an 'O'. Meliodas is still casually grinning, but I'm positive the way he drums his fingers against his side proves he's nervous.
What would Diane say?
'You better take his number, Ellie! Guys like him don't come around often. Besides, he's obviously into you.'
He did help me when I tripped...and his intentions don't seem bad...
I peer into Meliodas' eyes . I know I could get lost in them as easily as I could fall for him. They're welcoming and oozing compassion. I could certainly give him my heart, but it'll only end in it being trampled and stomped on.
Hesitantly, I reach out for the money he's holding. Our fingers brush for a second and a tender tingle flurries through me at the contact. Tucking the note into my pocket, I regard his demeanour.
He's waiting for my actions, patiently standing to see if I'll give my number or abandon him.
It's that easy. Meliodas has given me the option to turn away, it makes sense. Since I'd taken the £10, it would be simple to decline further contact in the future and go. Straightforward, clean, uncomplicated.
I twist my lips and reach for my phone in my jean pocket. His face instantly brightens and I have to repress a laugh-he looks exactly like a little kid who's receiving sweets.
In that context, would I be the sweet?
A poster above Meliodas catches my eye. The chocolate milkshake poster from earlier is still here, plastered above the coats, and a precipitous urge envelopes me like an exploding firework. I think it's the stupidest thing I've thought off.
For some weird unknown reason, I find myself following it.
Instead of grabbing my phone (I swear his face droops) I clasp his left hand-more tingles shoot up my arm-and lead him towards the closest counter. Meliodas quirks a brow, his strides in time with mine, and beams at our conjoined hands. He grips mine a bit tighter, yet somehow gentle.
"If you want to, we could get a milkshake after in a nearby café? I'm kinda hungry and..." and I'd like to get to know you better.
The words refuse to leave my mouth, they're rigid on the tip of my tongue.
Meliodas smiles. It's not cocky and it's not a smirk; it's a genuine smile. "Yeah," he says, squeezing my hand, "I'd like that."