Chapter Text
It's one of the first sunny days of the year, falling on a Sunday morning. You could tell by the fact that you hadn’t seen the true colour of your walls. You moved into the apartment last December. Usually, the warmth of your own artificial lights tinted the space.
But today? The sun showed you what true warmth was. Your steps slowed as you approached the kitchen window, appreciating the view. Your lace curtains filter in the rays.
A content sigh escaped you. As you revelled in the freedom you had fantasised about for years as a young girl, coming true.
It's decided, a splurge, to treat yourself.
You put on something light for the first time in a while. The colours a clear invitation to the season, before heading out.
You looked pretty, you felt pretty, you hoped you were pretty.
That chain of thought became interrupted by familiarity. You begin to recognise the upcoming features of your destination.
First, the street noise dwindled as you entered a walking path. Then, the buildings get lower to the ground. You see the red mailbox on the left, the mural on the right, a cafe you were too intimidated to try, and there she is: The fabrics store.
Your eyes went big. Almost dilated with excitement as you looked at the choices. Forever changing, yet never uninteresting to you.
Through a smile, you push past the door as the bell rings, announcing your presence. You aren't quite sure where you stand with the man behind the counter; it was a strange in-between phase. You were neither a new face nor a well-established character of the store.
You are familiar, is all. And you are fine with that.
“Hello,” you hum through a small smile, to which the man behind the counter turns, Hector.
“H-hello!” he blurts, facing away from the mountain of intricate rolled trims and lace behind him to face you.
“I thought I'd see you today,” he mused, before realising he should give more context to the statement.
“I-I mean, since it's such a nice day out, and you..” he trails off. Noticing the change in your skin, already having sucked up that summer glow, accentuated by the outfit you put together.
“You like summer,” he concluded, before shaking his head.
“I-i mean, you seem like you do, uh-do you?” he asked.
Meanwhile, you, used to the way his speech tended to tangle itself up before unravelling again, were already browsing the textiles.
“Well, I like every season, individually,” you reply with a little shrug, before adding.
“I guess I forgot how nice it was to be warm out.”
Hector nods. The weight of his hair follows the movement, as he pushes back a strand or two, looking down as his voice softens.
“Y-yeah, me too.” he looks down, noticing how strange he feels without something over his shirt. Suddenly, very aware of how dry his arms and hands were, god forbid, he was ashy.
He was about to work himself up into grabbing an emergency hoodie to throw over himself. You turn to him fully, hands full of different-patterned cloth and trim.
“I can't wait,” you chirp, a smile reaching your eyes, which puts him at ease.
“..for what?” Hector asked, amused.
As your shoulder falls, you breathe out, “Making things.”
Hector nods, expression almost endeared.
“Yeah? Like what?” His hands were already taking the heavy load from between your arms, to which you thanked him before continuing.
“God, I'm not sure, maybe some pouches, belts, faux undershirts, baby doll tops-” you trail off, before catching yourself. “Or.. something.”
Hector's previous shakiness is soothed quickly; it always has been when you talk a lot. It reminds him that he is, in fact, a human being who takes up space and is spoken to with thought and clarity. Not some machine that rings things up and stutters at small talk.
“I’d..love to see your work, I-I mean, if you'd show me,” He chuckled, looking away.
You beamed.
“Really? Like..bring it to you and show you?”
“I-if it's not any trouble! I mean, I-I shoudn't just ask for-”
“No, no, I wanna!” you spur, hands flat on the counter where he had already bagged your items up.
“Oh,” he blinked, before adding a small “okay,” smiling a bit.
There was a spell of silence, you, looking at him with a determined gaze, and his, absolutely delighted by it.
‘I should get your name,” he said quickly, suddenly remembering that you actually did have one, and weren't just a walking experience he had the joy of having from time to time.
You blink. Are you in? Is this it? Are you a regular at the fabric store? You quickly blurt out your name, almost with pride, annunciating each letter, as if planting a stamp.
Hector’s mind almost overrides every single fact and memory with that, your name, it fits you perfectly, he thought.
“Hector,” he blurted out, “That... is my name, by the way.”
“Cool.. Hector.”
He could have sworn you cooed that last part, but with his mind, he knows it's much more realistic. Your voice just happened to fall deeper on his name, and that is what he will believe so as not to lose himself in the fantasy.
You pick up the bags, using both arms, looking over them to say a quick goodbye.
“See you, Hector!” you smiled, before shuffling out.
“Hah..” Hector breathes out, suddenly going limp at the legs.
“I did that.” he whispers to himself, a hand clenched in the air. To him, he had finally won something, and he couldn't wait.
((...no way, you read that? My writing? I love you.))