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Nico walked behind me with the shopping bag in his hand like he ruled the entire mall.
Correction: like he was annoyed the mall didn't already belong to him.
I ignored him and flipped through a rack of dresses.
He kept watching me. I could feel it.
That heavy powerful stare, from the giant tattooed man.
Like he was scanning every little expression I made.
"You're not picking anything," he finally said.
"I'm looking," I argued.
"You've been looking for ten minutes."
"That's how shopping works."
"No," he said flatly. "Buying works by picking things up and going to try them on."
I rolled my eyes.
But then... fine. Whatever.
I grabbed a few things, a soft pink dress, a cute cream sweater, a little skirt I was absolutely overthinking—and headed toward the dressing rooms.
He smirked a little like he'd won a battle.
I ignored him and shut the curtain.
Inside, I tried on the pink dress first... and it was actually... cute? Soft, girly, a little fitted at the waist. I blinked at myself. Totally my style.
Then I realized the zipper in the back was stuck.
Shit.
I tried twisting my arm behind me like a contorted gymnastic worm but no luck.
So I cracked open the curtain a tiny bit and looked around.
A sales guy I'd met earlier, super sweet, very clearly into Nico by the way he told me "girl your man is a whole meal" was nearby.
"Hi," I whispered-shouted. "Could you call Paul for a sec? I need help with my zipper."
Before he could even answer, a voice behind me cut in:
"You trust that guy and not me?"
I turned.
Nico stood there, arms crossed, slight frown on his face.
Jealousy? Actual jealousy.
I almost fainted. Nico was really showing emotions.
"He's literally like my new best friend plus he's into you not me," I whispered.
Nico's frown deepened. "I'm your only best friend."
I gasped dramatically. "Did you just admit it?"
"No," he said instantly.
I laughed under my breath, still holding the curtain half-closed. "Nico, I literally just need someone to zip the dress."
He stepped forward.
"I'll do it."
My heartbeat kicked up like someone kicked me in my chest.
"You—you'll what?"
"Open the curtain," he said softly.
Oh god.
It's fine it's Nico. Just Nico.
I did. Slowly.
He slipped inside the small dressing room with me and pulled the curtain shut behind him.
The space immediately felt way too small.
He stood next to me, close but not touching, and for a moment neither of us moved.
"Turn around," he said quietly.
I did.
The dress hugged my waist, the straps delicate, the back exposed.
His fingers came up to the zipper, brushing my spine by accident, or not accident.
I couldn't even tell anymore.
He slowly pulled the zipper up.
My whole body went still.
His breath was warm near my shoulder, my back accidentally brushed his chest.
Just enough.
Enough that both of us froze.
My breath caught. His did too.
"Sorry," I whispered, mortified.
His voice came out rougher than before. "You're fine."
Fine.
Okay. I was actually going to pass out. Why was there so much tension?
When the zipper reached the top, he paused.
"Does it fit?" he asked quietly.
"Y-yeah," I whispered. "I think so."
He was still behind me.
Still close.
I turned around slowly, and because the fitting room was microscopic, my body brushed his again.
Chest to chest.
Barely a breath of space between us.
"Sorry," I said again, voice tiny.
This time, he looked down at me. His eyes were darker but unreadable. His jaw tight, almost painful looking.
"Stop apologizing," he murmured.
I swallowed. "Nico..."
He didn't say anything, but something made my knees feel like they melted.
"The dress," he said finally, voice low, "is perfect."
My knees almost gave out.
"Nico," I whispered again because I was losing the ability to form sentences.
He stepped back suddenly, before exhaling.
"We're buying it," he said.
"But—"
"Daria..." he warned. Something about the way he said it made me stop questioning him.
OHHHHH.
THIS MAN!
I stood there speechless, pulse pounding, while he opened the curtain to leave like nothing happened.
Holy. Crap.
I changed back into my clothes, and when I stepped out, he was leaning against the wall, one hand rubbing the back of his neck... like he'd been trying to get himself together.
He didn't look at me right away.
When he finally did, his eyes flicked down my body, then quickly away like looking too long should be illegal.
"You ready?" he asked, voice soft.
I nodded, trying not to smile like an idiot.
We walked to the cashier together, both pretending nothing happened.
Both absolutely lying.
After he paid for my dress, we walked through the mall in this weird... electric silence. Not awkward exactly. Just... strange. Like the air between us had changed
Outside, he opened the passenger door for me again. It was funny how sweet he was yet, terrifying.
I got in, and he rounded the car before sliding into the driver's seat.
He rested one hand on the wheel. The other loosely draped on his thigh. His eyes flicked toward me.
"You want me to drive you home?"
"No!"
It came out way too fast.
Way... too fast.
He raised a brow.
I cleared my throat.
"I mean... no. I don't want to go home yet."
Not after the morning I had with mom.
Not with the tension still buzzing in the air from that dressing room.
He studied me for a second. "Okay. Where should we go?"
I hesitated. Then an idea hit me, and I perked up a little.
"There's this really cute bookstore I love. I have to show you."
His brows lifted slightly. "A bookstore?"
"Yes," I said defensively. "Do you... read?"
He gave me this look, like he was amused and confused and entertained all at once.
"Do you want me to read?" he asked.
I laughed. "I mean... reading is nice. Books are really nice."
He stared at me for a moment longer than necessary.
"Where's the bookstore?" he asked quietly.
I grinned and told him.
The drive was quiet, but not empty, his fingers drummed on the steering wheel, and I couldn't stop sneaking glances at him. The sun hit his jawline, his neck tattoos peaking and his wavy hair messy.
Ironically the song Nervous by The Neighbourhood played on the radio, on the drive.
When we arrived, the bookstore was nearly empty. Warm lights, wooden shelves, the smell of paper and vanilla candles , my heaven.
I walked in first, instantly feeling lighter.
"This place is amazing," I said, waving my hands like an overexcited child. "They actually have old books, like real editions. And the organization is insane. Everything is alphabetical inside sub-genres, so it's super easy to find whatever you—"
I stopped, realizing I was rambling.
I turned around awkwardly. "Sorry. Am I talking too much?"
Nico stood there, hands in his pockets, watching me like I was telling him the most exciting thing.
"Don't stop," he said, voice deep.
My stomach flipped so hard I bit my lip.
I looked away, super flustered, suddenly hyperaware of everything I did. So I moved too fast and bumped right into a shelf.
A book thunked onto the floor.
"Uhm..." I said beautifully, bending down to pick it up.
I didn't realize what I was doing until I felt him move behind me.
I froze in place.
Because my entire butt accidentally pressed against him.
OH MY GOD. WHY DO I LOVE EMBARRASSING MYSELF?
I shot up, spinning around so fast I almost knocked us both over.
He was frozen in place too, eyes dark.
Jaw clenched, but didn't say anything.
"I—sorry—I didn't mean—" I stuttered.
Before I could even finish, he stepped toward me, slow and deliberate.
I stepped back.
He stepped forward again.
I backed up right into a bookshelf.
He lifted his arm and placed a hand above my head on the shelf, leaning in just enough to trap me there without touching me.
"Twice today," he said, voice low, dark, and wrecking me from the inside out for no reason. "You're... driving me insane Daria."
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might break through.
I swallowed.
He tilted his head slightly, eyes dragging over my face, lingering on my lips.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked, voice like velvet and smoke.
My mind blanked.
"N-nothing," I whispered, biting my lip.
His gaze dropped to my mouth.
"It's not nothing," he murmured, stepping half an inch closer. "I can tell when you're nervous."
I felt dizzy. My thoughts were spiraling:
I've kissed guys before. I have been this close to men. I have. College parties, stupid nights, harmless fun...
But none of them ever made me feel like this though.
Like my entire spine turned to electricity just from being near him.
I felt like a literal cartoon character.
Heart pounding, knees weak, brain melted goo.
"Uhm..." I whispered, because I forgot how to function.
His eyes flicked up to mine.
Then—
He inhaled sharply and stepped back, just enough to break the tension, not enough to breathe normally.
I tried to move, but my knees almost gave in.
I swayed.
His breathing was uneven.
My chest was rising too fast.
He steadied me instantly with a hand on my waist, a real, full, warm grip that sent my heartbeat into infinity and beyond.
"Jesus, Daria..." he whispered like he was losing a battle with himself. "You're going to kill me."
What. Was. Happening. To. Us.
"Come on," he said, voice tight, eyes still burning. "Show me the rest of the store."
Whatever this was... it was no longer normal.
Not even close.
Special shoutout to the commentary ?? you are all hilarious i love you!