Fifteen | ✓

three

"Sketch, I am most absolutely sure that you're stalking me at this point."

Catherine whipped her head from the clothing rack she'd been viewing, her eyes locking with Christopher's brown ones.

This might have not been embarrassing if the said clothing rack had been stocked with ordinary clothing and not underwear. Her cheeks flamed pink as she attempted to block out its view from Christopher. The effort was futile; there was only so much a 5'4 skinny teenage girl could cover.

"I think the real question would be as to why you're in a Victoria's Secret store, Christopher."

He grinned. "Maybe I'm here to buy something."

Catherine quirked a brow. "I didn't peg you as the cross-dressing type."

He laughed; she liked when he did that, and discreetly admired the crinkles around his eyes. "And what if I'm buying for someone else to wear?"

She felt her heart fall slightly at the prospect of Christopher actually visiting the store to purchase something for a female, a girlfriend maybe. Did Christopher have a girlfriend?

Shaking her head and telling herself that his personal love life wasn't in any way her business, she smiled in a feeble attempt to disguise her falter. "Shame. I bet it would look much hotter on you."

He laughed again, following her as she traversed around the maze of racks and shelves. "It would, wouldn't it? After all I've been blessed with my great gran's glorious calves," he played along, pretending to consider, hand on chin. "I've been told she was a sexy beast."

It was Catherine's turn to laugh, the sound louder than she intended as it resonated through the store. She blushed under the disdainful stares of the other shoppers.

"But seriously, why are you here?" She decided on buying just a pair of sweatpants and two bottles of perfume; there was no way she'd still purchase any bras or panties, at least not in Christopher's scrutinizing presence.

Christopher absentmindedly sniffed at some of the fragrance samples. It was entertaining to watch. "It's a mall, Sketch. Let's just say I just happened to be passing through this wing and by chance spotted the famous jay- I mean artist," he amended as Catherine shot him a sharp glare, "and I'd thought I'd drop by and say hi."

She smirked teasingly. "Were you that eager to see me?"

"Someone's got quite an ego."

She allowed him to carry her items when he insisted as they approached the till. Catherine angled herself so that she could view the cashier, more specifically the stud that pierced through her nose.

"Nose rings are rad, right?" She inquired randomly, and Christopher, who'd been using his phone, looked up with a slightly bewildered face.

"That was out of the blue." He tucked his phone back into his jeans pocket surreptitiously before continuing conversation; she noticed he chose to be a gentleman when he wanted to. "But I guess they're pretty cool."

She nodded at his approval, somehow feeling more confident. "I might get one. In future that is. If I did now my mother would probably nail me to a cross."

"A little graphic aren't we?" He studied her face for a moment, a brief moment that had stretched itself in Catherine's perspective, seeming like eternity. Maybe that was another one of Christopher's perks, immortalizing things. "I think it'd fit you quite well. You have the face for it."

"Oh," said Catherine, unknowing that there was a certain face for nose rings. But knowing Christopher, there probably wasn't; yet another one of his numerous perks: the ability make people feel special.

As they left the store, she taking her bag back from him to excuse herself because her mother was waiting for her somewhere in the mall, with detailed explanation of her impatient nature, Christopher circled his hand around her wrist, and she had a brief flashback of what happened all those days ago; the day of the storm's awakening.

She could see her wide eyed reflection in his eyes as he spoke, "So for a sincere answer to your previously asked question, I must admit I had been quite eager to see you again," her heart began to pick up at the words, "but in fear of not meeting you again and spending the rest of my life in anxiety, I'd like your phone number."

"You would, wouldn't you? It's quite a pretty number if I must say."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay I'll rephrase that: I'd like to have your phone number."

And she smiled, not hesitating to scribble it across a scrap of paper, Christopher promising never to lose it and to use it in the nearest time possible before he finally left in the opposite direction.

The grin on her face was still intact after that, and even hours after, she finding herself absentmindedly tracing the skin around which Christopher's had been just moments ago.