𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕥𝕤 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝔹𝕠𝕒𝕥 - Rhea Ripley x Reader (Discontinued)

Part Three

Author's Note: Okay so I might have accidentally made y/n autistic but I won't make it canon to the story so just pretend she isn't (unless you want her to be).

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Word count: 1036

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Georgia and I entered Oliver's shop.

Oliver looked up as we entered.

'Oh, hello again, y/n! And hello ... give me a second, I've got it... Georgia! Hello, Georgia,' Oliver said cheerily.

'Hi, Oliver,' I said, wandering over the the plastic box labelled 'patches'.

I picked it up and balanced it on the edge of the counter before delving into it.

'We've got a special offer on those,' Oliver said. 'Five for £1.'

Keeping that in mind, I continued rummaging through the box.

I heard Georgia walk over to the magazine rack and start looking through.

Eventually I found five patches I liked.

One was a bottle with a skull and crossbones on it.

The second one was a bulldog with a bow tie.

The third looked like the grim reaper.

The fourth was the skeleton of a dog, and the fifth was blank.

'That one's special,' Oliver said. 'You can draw a design on it, bring it back here and I'll make it for you.'

I put the other four patches on the counter and looked at the fifth one.

'Do you have a sharpie?' I asked Oliver.

He handed me a black sharpie and I quickly drew a design on the white circle.

Oliver took my little patch and disappeared out the back.

Five minutes later, he returned with my patch.

I put the patch on the counter with the others and pulled out a one pound coin.

I put my purchases in my pocket and called to Georgia.

She ran to me.

I said goodbye to Oliver, and Georgia and I left.

We walked back down the road, chatting away.

'What time is it?' Georgia asked.

I checked my phone.

14:23

'Nearly two thirty.'

'Already?' Georgia asked, shocked.

I nodded.

'I haven't had lunch yet,' Georgia said, itching her upper arm.

'Me neither,' I replied.

Georgia looked at me, sensing an opportunity.

'Do you want to try out that Italian?' she asked.

I shook my head. 'I don't like trying new food.'

Georgia frowned slightly.

'Why not?' she asked.

'I just don't. I find comfort in foods I'm familiar with,' I said.

Georgia eyed me funnily.

'Do what you want to,' she said with a shrug.

'I'm going to get Italian,' she continued.