Wlw smut

Friends

Got my characters from a short film called "Under the same roof" it was so peak.

Kiara's POV

I stood in my family's shop, the usual rush finally over so I could breathe.

I leaned against the counter, half-scrolling on my phone, when the door opened and the bell rang.

I looked up—and had to blink.

She was brown and beautiful in a way that made my insides flutter, and she was walking straight towards me.

I didn't even realize I was staring until she smiled at me.

"Hi," she said.

She's speaking to me?

"Hi—hello," I said, my voice betraying me.

"Can I buy a lighter?" she asked.

Oh. Right. I'm working. That's why she's talking to me.

"Yeah—yeah." I nodded quickly. "Any color?"

"Preferably pink."

Of course. She seemed like a color girl, the type to have everything a specific way. Something to perfectly fit her theme.

I reached up, grabbed the pink lighter off the shelf and placed it on the counter between us.

"Two fifty."

She dug through her pockets, pulling out a crumpled dollar, then paused.

"Shit," she laughed softly. "I forgot to bring cash."

"I'll be right back," she said, stepping away.

"Wait—" I said,

I quickly glanced over at the deli, then back at her. "It's fine. Forget it."

"Really?" She asked, "Just don't tell my mom," I added, giving her a wink.

She was clearly amused by my antics, "Thanks," she said, eyes lingering on mine long enough to make my chest tighten.

She turned to leave, then paused at the door. "I work across the street. My parents own that bakery."

I bit my lip softly, "Stop by, I'll give you something for free." She smiled.

"Cool," I said.

She smiled again. "Cool."

Then she was gone.

The bell rang. The door closed.

I did a few small, jumps behind the counter.

"Kiara?"

My mother appeared crossing her arms. "What are you doing?"

"Just—uh. Testing the floors," I said, stomping once for emphasis.

She narrowed her eyes. "Okay, girl."

She walked back into the deli, and I sighed.

I stood there tapping my foot, replaying the moment again and again.

Only an hour or two passed before I couldn't take it anymore.

I hurried back toward the deli. My mom was there, fixing a customer a sandwich.

"Mom, can I take my lunch?" I asked, leaning against the display case.

She glanced at me, then at the customer. "After you ring this man and his food up."

I rang up his sandwich and the bag of chips he'd dropped on the counter, fingers moving faster than my brain.

"Eight oh seven," I said.