Tied Fate • ✓

6

Regina felt herself shaking, all over again, and forced herself to take a deep breath once she turned away from the man. Now that she'd seen him closer, his eyes were a pale, almost lime-coloured kind of brown. His brown hair was ruffled, light, and though cropped short was impeccably unruly. His nose was high, with a soft crook at the bridge. His jawline was fine and sturdy, lips soft and small.

Regina couldn't believe she'd already memorised every feature of his face.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned at the end of the aisle and entered a different one, if only to get away from the man. The young man, whatever. How old was he, anyway?

Clearly not too young or too old to be the ideal asshole.

"What are you buying?"

She nearly jumped and crashed back-first into the shelves next to her. Instead, she glanced sharply over her shoulder. That man was following her, strolling five feet behind her, hands snug in his pockets. He stared at her, awaiting an answer.

"A-Are you following me?" Was what came out of her mouth when she spoke. She tried to look disgusted, but all she felt was flustered. "Are you stalking me or something?"

"Stalking?" He seemed surprised at the accusation. And then he was the one who looked flustered, much to Regina's satisfaction. "Well - I mean, it can't be stalking if we're the only two people in the store."

"Yes, it can."

"Not really, no."

"Yes, it can," she insisted, turning to give him a firm look. She was stunned when the side of his mouth quirked up in a small, puckish grin. Warmth looked indifferent on him. "And we're not the only ones in the store. There's Arnold."

Arnold was behind the register, feet propped up on his counter, face buried in his newspaper. Regina hadn't even seen his face when she walked in.

The young man cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Okay. Fine," he said, unsmiling. She wondered if she'd imagined the warmth in his face before. "But, I'm not stalking you." His words sank in.

Regina thought the silence would fall flat, expected it too, really. But her easy response was, "Don't believe you."

She saw his eyes flick up in a quick eye-roll and threw him a glare. She turned back to her shelves.

"So, what are you buying?"

She was standing in the toiletries and cleaning-products aisle. She had no idea.

"Why do you care?" She threw back at him, not meeting his gaze but unable to look away. She didn't understand why he was talking to her. She didn't understand why she was talking back.

She thought she'd made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with him.

"All I'm here to say is that I'm sorry. Truly," he sounded so genuine Regina was drawn to meet his gaze. Pale brown, lime-coloured eyes.

"Oh yeah?" She muttered, unable to fight the sarcasm. "I bet you are."

"No, really. Honestly."

"Adding adverbs to the one word doesn't make it any more true."

"But it is true," he insisted, continuing to follow her stroll down the aisle. Over her shoulder, Regina caught the stricken look of disbelief, as well as an irritated are you kidding me, in his eyes. "Why won't you believe me?"

There was a minute as this registered. Her jaw tightened, a single muscle ticking. Her stiff reply was, "Like I said. I don't know you."

There was nothing left to say.

Her heart, suddenly, again, felt heavy. She stopped walking and turned to look at him, "Listen, guy -"

"Thomas."

"- Thomas. I appreciate you coming and saying sorry, but... I don't think we should, uhh, talk. I think, I should just go back to my apartment. You should just go back to that fancy penthouse you own -" his brows furrowed "- a-and, we should just forget this ever happened." She inhaled a breath, "Thank you."

She turned and walked away.