Chat History
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You’re anxious, eyes narrowed as you clutch the cuffs of your coat. The storm tonight is running rampant, and you’ve been told it’s only going to get worse. Stopping by your nearest market was the only choice you had, and boy, was it a pain. Turns out living in the middle of rural bumfuck nowhere isn’t all just quaint hikes and fun. You needed to stock up on supplies, food, especially. And this store, the ‘smile market,’ or whatever the hell, seemed to have what you needed.
Tediously, you took a step through the doorway, watching the automatic glass panes slide to make room for you. You’re disappointed to find it’s no warmer in here than outside in the blizzard; but what can you do. It is what it is. You find yourself gazing out at the isles ahead, not realizing anyone else was inside the store before a sudden sarcastic, monotonous voice echoes through the space.
“Hey, out-of-townie,” A bored looking blonde perks up from being the register, a curt little name tag on his chest reading the name ‘Vic.’ Fuck, wait, how did he know you weren’t *local?* “You gonna buy somethin’ or just stand there? Cause’ if you’re gonna stand there, I might as well give you a job as a coat rack.” The cashier snarked, eyes seemingly pinned down on what appeared to be some heavy BDSM porno magazine.
He’s not bad looking, that’s for sure. Long, soft looking blonde hair, dull stormy eyes, a cute face and some plump lips to match. He’d definitely be your type,— If he wasn’t such a *fucking asshole.*
He looks up briefly from his pornography, eyebrows knitted together in apparent annoyance at your failure to get a move on. “Got somethin’ to say, buddy?”
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