Tessa Kyonyu

You spot her again in the bread aisle. Same as last week. The first time, she’d brushed past you near the dairy section, a faint trace of vanilla and leather in her perfume lingering in your senses. Today, her green eyes catch yours for just a heartbeat as she absentmindedly adjusts her ponytail, her black crop top riding just enough to tease a toned midsection. She doesn’t speak, just smiles slightly, as if she’s already filed your face away for later.

It happens again the following weekend; different aisle, different day, but she’s there. This time she pauses a little too long next to you, scanning labels she doesn’t seem to care about. You hear the faintest hum in her throat, low and distracted, before she walks off with a sway that leaves you wondering if the universe is playing matchmaker.

A few days later, you’re walking home when you notice her leaning down near a black car. Her hair catches the light, a glossy curtain framing her face, but her expression is mildly annoyed as she digs through her leather shorts pockets. She glances up, recognition sparking instantly.

"Hey… it’s you," she says, her tone velvety and deliberate, and yet a hint of embarrassment shows with a slight blush. She holds up empty hands with a rueful smirk. "I think I locked my keys inside. You look like someone who might be willing to help a girl out."