Sophia was already angry before she saw him.
Her cramps were relentless, her patience was nonexistent, and the plastic pharmacy bag in her hand felt heavier than it had any right to be.
Everything was wrong.
The street was quiet, narrow, and annoyingly long—one of those streets where your building always looks closer than it actually is.
She adjusted her grip on the bag and turned the corner—
Straight into Nathan Hale.
"Oh, come on," she snapped instantly. "You again?"
He stopped short, clearly surprised.
"That's my line."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course it is."
They stood there, staring at each other like two people who had absolutely no emotional capacity for politeness.
Nathan crossed his arms. "You always this pleasant in public?"
"Only when fate hates me," she shot back. "Which seems frequent lately."
His gaze flicked to the bag in her hand.
"What's that?" he asked casually.
"None of your business," she replied sharply, hugging it closer to her chest.
He raised an eyebrow. "Touchy."
"You're observant."
He smirked. "And you're grumpy."
She glared at him. "Say that again."
"Grumpy."
She stepped closer. "I swear, Nathan, if you don't move—"
"Or what?" he interrupted calmly. "You'll hit me with a pharmacy bag?"
"Yes," she said without hesitation. "And it'll hurt emotionally."
That almost made him laugh.
Almost.
She tried to walk past him, but he stepped slightly to the side, blocking her path.
"Oh no you don't," she said. "Are you seriously picking a fight right now?"
"I'm not fighting," he replied coolly. "I'm observing."
"Well, observe this," she snapped, shifting the bag—
And the contents shifted with it.
Just enough.
Just visible enough.
Nathan froze.
His eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
Then he looked away so fast it was almost impressive.
"Oh," he said quickly. "Oh. I—"
Sophia stopped mid-step.
Realization hit her.
Hard.
"…You saw," she said flatly.
"I didn't mean to," he said, turning red in a way she hadn't seen before. "I swear."
Her anger flared instantly.
"Fantastic. Amazing. Of course this is how my day goes."
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't— I'll just—"
He stepped back.
Fast.
Too fast.
"I should go," he added awkwardly. "I have… somewhere to be."
She stared at him.
"You were just blocking my way."
"Yes. Well. I'm unblocking it now."
And with that—
He left.
Practically fled.
Sophia stood there in stunned silence.
Then she scoffed.
"Unbelievable."
She adjusted the bag, squared her shoulders, and marched the rest of the way home alone.
---
That evening, Sophia had just curled up on her couch when the doorbell rang.
She frowned.
"I swear, if that's another delivery mistake…"
She opened the door.
No one there.
Just a paper bag on the floor.
Pharmacy logo.
Her name written neatly on the receipt.
Confused, she brought it inside and looked through the contents.
The exact brand she used.
Painkillers.
Chocolate.
And a small folded note.
She opened it.
«You forgot to buy enough.
I didn't ask which kind—
I paid attention before I embarrassed myself and ran away.
—N»
Sophia stared at the note.
Then laughed.
A real laugh.
"Idiot," she murmured fondly.
She grabbed the chocolate, shook her head, and leaned back against the couch.
Maybe he was infuriating.
Maybe the timing was terrible.
But somehow…
He still showed up.