Imagine That (Woody McClain Chronicles)

Warm Enough

Tw: self-harm, suggested sexual assault and abuse.

Woody stood in the back of the bodega restocking the shelves with soda, shimmying his shoulders to the beat of the meringue music playing. He was trying to pass the time. He desperately wished his shift would be over so he could link up with his friends and finish a project they'd been working on for a couple of days. It shouldn't have taken that long being that it was only a 3 minute video they were putting together but between the last minute changes they kept making and Woody's boss, Santiago, having him work from open to close 6 days a week, it was a bit difficult to get everyone in the same location. Today, he was letting Woody clock out early and he was counting down the minutes.

He stared out the window watching little kids run up and down the side walks with water balloons in hand, trying to hit one another. The usual Puerto Rican old heads sat right outside the store playing Dominos, trash talking one another and whispering, in Spanish, about passersby. The streets of Brooklyn were buzzing in July. It was hot as hell. Women were jiggling in their sundresses, dudes in their fly kicks, fire hydrants flooding the streets in every hood to keep the people cool; block parties and festivals...then there was Woody, stuck in a Bushwick bodega working his butt off for minimum wage and complimentary Goya juices and potato chips. They weren't exactly complimentary but Woody nibbled during his shift, when Santiago wasn't looking of course. It'd surely come out of his check if the old man saw.

Woody placed the last soda on the shelf and carried the empty crate to the back of the store. He looked around to make sure he was alone before doing a quick cha-cha and flared turn to the music. The music was one of the things he loved about working at Santiago's. He loved to dance and moving to some fast paced latin music was a damn good time. He danced around the stock room, displaying a rough bachata with an invisible partner. He had gotten so deep into it he didn't hear a customer enter the store, even with the loud cowbell that hung above the door to alert him.

Y/n let out a refreshed sigh as the fan by the door relieved her of the midday summer heat as she entered. The store was stuffy and not much cooler than outside but it was something.
Multiple scents of sweets, food, and menthol assaulted her senses making her stomach growl. She was a regular at Santiago's. He'd watched her grow up into a young woman of 21, which was almost as long as he'd been in business in the neighborhood.

She walked to the back of the store to get her usual treats: a Goya Papaya Nectar and a bag of skittles. She turned the corner of the aisle and caught a glimpse of Woody dancing. She smiled and pursed her lips, trying not to laugh out loud. She'd always known Woody to be quiet and reserved. For the year he'd worked there, he didn't say too much. He was courteous and did his duty as an employee but nothing more than that. Only recently had she been able to converse with him...it was glorious. He was a man of few words but they were meaningful. He'd sparked her intrigue, infiltrating her thoughts often. He was a mystery only to be solved in her dreams. It didn't take long for her impulsive nature to kick in and her desires to go into over drive. However, she remained calm and collected; continuing on as her bold and outgoing self.
She giggled as she watched him dance. She thought Woody was sweet and very attractive. She had no idea he could dance though.

She leaned on the door of the stock room with her items at her side.

"Ay papi! You got some moves!" She blurted making him jump and jerk his head towards her. He tripped over a stray crate in the process but caught himself on the small table near him.

Y/n laughed into her free hand before extending it apologetically. Woody blushed in embarrassment as he straightened himself upright and dusted off his shorts.