Moiety

one

Saf

"I couldn't find it, I swear!" the obnoxious customer whined.

I rolled my eyes back until it hurt in behind," I'll go look myself then. But Sir, the computer says we have your book in stock..still..whatever." I ripped myself up from the scratchy desk chair and went for the K section.

I heard his footsteps the whole way which were horrendously fucking loud. The moment I stopped by the K shelf I spun around. 1. Because I was exhausted. 2. I was supposed to close shop 5 minutes ago. 3. This customer was aggravatingly persistent, so I felt the need to act cocky.

His smirk locked on his face. It looked painted on his pale skin and his Kroger name tag seemed as if he put it on with haste; the paint crumbling down in some areas. "Mmm," his filmy eyes undressed me,"I think I found it, babe, thanks," the pedophile vibe radiated from his vocal cords as the bell of the entrance rung and he was gone. The stare his filthy eyes left upon my body seemed to magnet too long.

***

I curled up in my little corner, the afternoon sun was hurting my vision but I needed it to read so it didn't matter. My eyes sponged up the words encrusted on the paper. I was too involved so my ears didn't catch the familiar ring. The intensely hot sun must've eclipsed; because it fell away all too soon. The black ink on my paper bled to be an entire black page. I lacked light for my reading. I took no notice of faint breathing until long fingers touched the edge of the prehistoric desk.

"Ma'am? Mrs. Hammish?" a voice questioned. Fuck. I forgot to put up the closing sign.

"Sir, we closed 2 hours ago, come back at another time. I'll be happy to serve you once this family is away from the zombies, good day."

He looked stooped as I peered up at him after he didn't move from his original stance. "Uhm," the curly headed man voiced. His hair might've been blonde but it looked like the after picture of a dirty horse stable and mop combined. That and I couldn't rip my gaze from his sparkling greens. Brown locks tousled around his face frame; reflecting light from the sun behind him.

"Oh god I'm so sorry, I'm reading a novel, just forget that happened," I swept my vans from the old wood floor that creaked with the suicide of a crumb. "We're closed. Um, I'm sorry, Sir. I'm not Ms. Hammish, I'm just in need of a name tag. I'm Saf Tucker."

His larger hand differed greatly from my smaller one. "Harry Styles, might I come again tomorrow? I'm sorry again for barging on in," the man who probably had the girls tripping on his heels, apologized.

"No, no, what are you looking for?" I offered and the smile his lips played held me hostage. Maybe that was too quick of a change of mind. Under his gaze it felt forever ago.

"Saf, I'm looking for a book," Harry humorously retaliated. He didn't give me time to giggle like any girl would at a flirtatious comment before he made another. "But I'm not sure which one would tell me the story of why your name intrigues me so," he joked.

I didn't think my cheeks could turn such a shade of red and pink.