Savior (Scomiche)

Groceries

Avi: Hey buddy, can you pick up some groceries? Low on food...
Me: I suppose, I'll go there now
Avi: Thank youuu

The week was going incredibly fast- it was already Thursday and I had barely done anything.
Begrudgingly, I snatched a cart from the connected rows and began to walk around the produce. Throwing stuff into the cart if it looked good and had a reasonable price, I shopped fairly quickly. I was by the milk when I saw him-- that slightly familiar face.
The blond man.
The miniature tires on my cart squeaked as I halted on the tile, furrowing a single eyebrow. This was the Scott, right? Him and the blond man were the same person.... right?
Sucking in a breath, I heard Avi's advice in my head, advising me to thank him.
I cleared my throat, watching him search for the date on the half gallon of milk he had chosen. "Scott?"
His head snapped up. "Mm?"
Thank God it was him. "H-hey. Right here." I waved, giving him my kindest smile.
"Hi..." It was obvious he recognized me.
"I'm Mitch." I removed my hand from the handle on the cart to offer it to him.
Hesitantly he shook it. "Hello Mitch."
There was a second of silence, where he looked like he was questioning why he had chosen to shop this day. "So, I heard you're the one who drove me home on Saturday. I just really wanted to thank you for that. I never get that drunk, I just..." I trailed off.
I expected him to interject, but he didn't. He waited for me to finish my thought.
"I just was coping with a break up, and that's how I felt it was most appropriate to do it."
Scott nodded, giving it a moment before speaking, as if he was making sure my sentence was over. "Um, yeah, it's totally fine."
I stared at him curiously. "I also heard that you saved me, and really, I appreciate it. Sincerely." My genuine smile didn't affect him at all. "What exactly happened?"
Scott glanced around nervously. "Do we have to do this here?"
I shook my head, a bit surprised by the question. "N-no, let's do it over dinner, say, tomorrow night? Just as a thank you. You deserve it."
His face turned a bright pink. "No thank you," he refused, placing the milk in his basket.
"I insist, my treat."
I noted his body language- averted eyes, slumped posture, slight shake to his hands.
"It really isn't necessary."
I was dumbfounded. "But you saved me..."
He cringed at the word 'saved'. "I didn't save you, I just did what was right."
"Soooo, let. me. buy. you. dinner."
Scott looked around hopelessly, praying for a distraction, a disturbance so he could politely excuse himself.
But there was nothing. He was stuck. And very, very uncomfortable.
"No," Scott airily and quietly said, gripping tighter onto the handles of his shopping basket. "I'm okay, thank you."
I was beginning to get frustrated. All I wanted to do was simply thank him, and apologize for getting so disgustingly drunk I couldn't fight for myself. I stood there awkwardly. I was trying to do a nice thing for this guy I barely knew and he was pushing it away. Something within me didn't want to let him go that easily.
Scott glanced down to his shoes, and mumbled, "I don't deserve it."
My eyebrows drew together. "Of course you do."
"No, I really, really don't. But I'll see you around, Mitch."
Nobody had been that modest around me in a while, especially while declining something. A reward at that.
Reward? No, wait. Did he look at this as a reward? Like he was some little puppy that needed to be told "Good job!" for fetching a stick? Did it seem like I was superior to him?
"Scott," I stated, realizing this all at once.
Exasperated, he replied, "What?"
"I really want to take you out to dinner to get to know you. Whether you like it or not, you did rescue me from Jack, and I'd like to know the man who did such a wonderful thing for me."
He pondered it for a moment before nodding. Quietly, he asked, "So, tomorrow night?"
A grin crossed my face. I had succeeded. "Yup, tomorrow at... six? Should I pick you up? I thought maybe we could go to Lynn's Bistro. You know, the one off of 198th?"
"Oh, I live within walking distance from there. That'd be great. I can, um, meet you at six if you'd like?"
"Are you sure? I can pick you up on the way."
Scott rejected that offer, insisting he'd like to walk.
So it was set. A date for Friday night. Lynn's Bistro, six o'clock.