The soft touch of sunshine peeked through the slightly open curtain, a gentle reminder of the morning's arrival. I had forgotten to close the window completely, but sleep claimed me before I could rectify my oversight.

I had been awake since before dawn, lost in another chapter of 'The First She' on my phone. If anyone were to see me now, they'd find my face illuminated by the dim glow of my device, my eyes eagerly devouring each word as my heart yearned for an escape into the unknown.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as I indulged my curiosity further. Dreams, I mused, were often closer to reality than we realized.

The blaring sound of my alarm clock shattered the tranquility, signaling the arrival of 7 o'clock. With a groggy stretch, I silenced the alarm, only to be greeted by the disappointing notification of my low battery for the third time. "Oh, not again," I muttered disbelievingly, realizing the urgent need for a new phone with a more reliable battery.

I rose from bed, each limb protesting its newfound wakefulness, but a sense of anticipation for the day ahead heartened my spirits. As I slipped my feet into worn but comforting slippers, I released a contented breath, eager for whatever the day held in store.

After a brief stretch to ease the stiffness in my muscles, I left my glasses on the bedside table and made my way to the bathroom. Greeting my reflection in the mirror, I noted the disarray of loose twists framing my face and the tired redness of my eyes—clear signs of a restless night. Nevertheless, a smile graced my lips as I turned on the faucet, the cool water refreshing as I washed away the traces of sleep and brushed my teeth.

Glancing out the small window, I found nothing but the mundane sight of run-down buildings needing repair. Within minutes, I was ready for the day, having already donned my work clothes the night before. A quick change into a blue blouse served as a nod to the informality of Friday attire.

With a practiced motion, I adjusted my hair, the twists springing into loose curls, and secured a headband in place before reaching for my bag. "Ah, my glasses," I murmured, a frown tugging at my lips as I noted the tape-covered frames—a reminder of my inability to afford a replacement pair.

Closing the door behind me with a soft click, I made my way out of the rundown building that I begrudgingly called home. Though its flaws were evident, I couldn't bring myself to complain—it was all I could afford for now.

Descending the stairs, I exchanged pleasantries with the friendly elderly women who often congregated near the exit. "Princess Elizabeth, off to work, are we?" Sam remarked with a gentle smile, to which I nodded in acknowledgement.

"Take care, dear. I heard there's a storm brewing," Meg chimed in, her gaze directed skyward with a note of concern.

"Oh, hush, Meg. You say that every day, and yet no storm ever arrives—it's the middle of March," Sam interjected matter-of-factly, her tone tinged with amusement.

Their lighthearted banter never failed to bring a smile to my face. "I'll be safe, and do remember to bring the plants outdoors this time," I assured them before waving goodbye and stepping out into the morning air.

Despite the anticipation of another day at work, there was a distinct lack of excitement in my demeanour. My life seemed to mock the clichés of fiction—no loving family, no luxurious lifestyle, just the monotony of existence in the poorer districts of town.

As I walked along the sidewalk, lost in thought, I approached the store where I worked, a familiar sense of resignation settling over me. Just as I neared the entrance, something caught my eye—a massive building looming beyond the storefront. Construction had wrapped up a week ago, and my gaze lingered on the imposing structure emblazoned with the letters "HL Inc."

Before I could admire it further, the tinkling of the store's bell signaled a customer's arrival just as I stepped inside. "Hello, and welcome to Meri Groceries," I greeted, tearing my gaze away from the intriguing sight outside.

To my surprise, no one was in sight. "Maybe they're browsing," I reasoned, heading to the cash register. A sudden thought brightened my mood. "It must be him—Mr. No Words," I said, feeling an unexpected flicker of happiness at the idea of his return.

Fifteen minutes passed. A few more customers came and went, but still, there was no sign of him. Puzzled, I pulled out my phone, ready to pass the time with a story. Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps made me look up, and there he was—his tall figure moving toward the counter.

Wordlessly, he placed his items down. His features were partially hidden by a shaggy mane of hair, and his tracksuit screamed luxury. Despite his imposing stature, something about him felt vulnerable, almost fragile, as he kept his head low, obscuring his handsome face.

I had tried to start conversations with him before, only to be ignored. Still, I knew trying again couldn't hurt. "Hi there, will this be all?" I asked with a smile. "I have to say, I think this brand of chocolate is the best," I added, noticing it among his regular purchases.

As I rang up his items, a strange unease settled over me. There was an air about him—something both intriguing and unsettling.

"Can I go now?" he muttered, his low voice clipped and impatient. His terse tone sent a ripple of discomfort through me, but I kept my composure, handing him his change with a polite smile.

"Please come again," I managed, watching as he swiftly exited the store. Peering out the window, I saw him cross the street and enter the HL Inc. building. His head was bowed, and his movements seemed hurried.

I couldn't help but smile to myself. He'd spoken four words this time—a small but surprising progress.

He was mesmerizing. His light brown eyes held a strange contrast—scared yet strong, as if they carried the weight of untold secrets. For a fleeting moment, I felt as though I had stepped into a fantasy world, welcomed by the spell of his few words.

"Whoa, Ellina, it's not that serious," I muttered to myself, laughing off the absurdity of my thoughts. "This is why I've got no boyfriend," I added, shaking my head at my own ridiculousness.

I forced myself to refocus, returning to the tasks at hand. Still, the image of the mysterious man lingered in the corners of my mind, refusing to fade.

"Maybe I should ask for his name next time," I mused aloud, only to shake my head at the idea. In a world already brimming with uncertainties, some mysteries, I decided, were best left unsolved.