A/N: Short and sweet beginning. But if anyone is interested, I intend to make this one a series too. Maybe. The world needs more Damien Sandow.
"Excuse me, can I ask you a question?" She glances over her shoulder at him, her arms full of the soup cans she was stocking. "Yes, I do work here." She chuckled. "As your fashion forward company vests implies." He chuckles in return. They never took the time to learn each other's names (she never wore a name badge), but over the course of the last few months, they'd grown a natural back and forth during his frequent supermarket trips. "What's up chief?" She asked, her back still towards him as she stacked the chicken noodle soup ahead of him. His mind reeled, trying to think of some obcure item in the store. He probably knew this store as well as she did by now, honestly. "You wouldn't happen to know much about wine, would you?" He stammered. Of course he knew enough about it. But, he needed a reason to distract her. "Not really. I don't drink much wine." She replied, a can falling from her grasp and bouncing off the hard flooring. 'Shit' she cursed under her breath, trying to kick the can aside. He bent down quickly and grabbed the can, setting it down on a shelf nearby. "Lemme give you a hand with that." He grabbed a few cands from her and followed suit, setting them on the nearby shelf. "Thanks." She replied, pushing a lock of dark brown hair back behind her ear. "What was it you needed to know about the wine?" She asked. "I was just wondering if you knew of any good ones.' He replied, lying through his teeth.
They both stood in front of the wine section, observing the rows of glass bottles. "Honestly, this is the only one I really ever drank that was decent." She shrugged, gesturing towards a cheap bottle of strawberry wine. "I'm honestly more of a beer girl myself." "Beer, yuck." He replied, making a face. "You haven't had the right beer." She joked and he shrugged. "Maybe you haven't had the right wine yet." She paused a moment, her ear trained to the announcement repeating over the intercom. 'Charlie to the checkouts please, Charlie please come to the checkouts.' She made a small sound of disapproval under her breath before she turned to him. "Sorry, gotta run. See ya next time, maybe?" "Sure. Maybe so." He stammered as she walked away. 'Charlie.' He mentally noted to himself. 'So that's her name.' Her line was too busy at the checkout, so he quickly paid through a cheap bottle of wine at the self checkout and headed back home. Back to his couch at home and another Netflix marathon.
And so was the pattern. Damien Sandow was nearly unemployed at the moment, and spent a good bit of his free time at the local supermarket. Hoping to catch a moment with brunette with the sad eyes. And each time he'd stumble over his words, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to.