dorothea | h.s.

yours is mine

"Well, if it isn't Miss Hart herself." The husky, familiar voice cut between me and my attention on the cereal boxes in front of me. I turned around, catching his deep brown eyes as they plastered onto mine.

"Hey, Zayn. How's it going?" I suddenly forgot how to normally hold the shopping basket in my hand, fumbling with it when he walked closer with a lopsided grin.

"Good." He looked me up and down-- I think. Either way, my whole body heated up in a flush. "How are you, Dottie?"

I nodded, swallowing before attempting an answer. "Good!" Too enthusiastic. "Just getting used to being back here and everything. I told Mom I could do her groceries, but I have no fucking clue what any of this is." I held up the paper between my fingers, glancing at the foreign script my mother expected me to understand. Zayn ticked his chin up in the direction of the list, moving even closer to me to lift his eyebrow at it.

"I think this says 'garden hose attachment.'" He hummed, pointing a nail with chipped black paint at one of the items I was supposed to find.

I nodded. "Good thing I'm in the cereal aisle, then."

"Hey, those Hollywood grocery stores must have their garden supplies next to the breakfast foods pretty often. Good on you for checking here." Zayn only shrugged, a faint smile on his lips as his sarcasm fell out too easily-- so good it took me a minute to realize.

I laughed, raising my brows and taking in a breath. "Oh, definitely. I should know by now. though."

"Eh, you'll get used to our common folk stores soon enough." He smirked. "C'mon, I'll help you find it."

Zayn had continued to be so lovely to me since I was home, and unprompted kindness always left me more anxious than just plain malice did. I didn't do anything to deserve his extended graciousness, and it only left me wondering what he was searching for from me with this. 

Was it arrogant of me to assume every nicety I received from anyone was held up by want of something from me? It was likely, but we only knew the reality we were presented with. 

I watched Zayn's tall figure as he wove through the aisles, taking leaps to keep up with him and flexing a smile when he would look back to make sure I was still with him. I avoided eyes with anyone else, not feeling like being spotted by the masses today. 

We reached the back of the store eventually, amongst walls of gardening tools that I was convinced I would never have found if he didn't direct me here. His arm swung out in presentation when he turned around to face me, and we both scanned the tiny aisle. 

"Thank you," I breathed, hiding the embarrassment on my face from how clueless I was in this shop.

Zayn smiled, and it was small but still so bright. "It's no problem. Anything else you're having trouble finding?" He asked as I grabbed the first hose attachment I saw. 

"Oh, just about everything, but I won't ask you to help." I adjusted the basket in my hand again, straightening my shoulders when I looked at him again. 

He shrugged. "You know I wouldn't mind." His laugh went straight through me and to my spine, sending a confused excitement down it. He cleared his throat, and as much as I wished it was out of awkwardness, much like any of my mannerisms were, he didn't have an awkward bone in his body. Everything he did was confident and calculated. I wasn't sure how I felt about it just yet, but it left me fumbling around him more often than not. "You a coffee person, Hart?" 

The giggle I let out was giddy but untimely. "I am." I nodded, hanging onto his movements to beg for another word or two. 

"Are you free any time soon to have some with me?" His head tilted only slightly, and I didn't realize I did the same until I began speaking.