Melody wandered the store, collecting a variety of her vices--chocolate, caffeine, sugar; naughty stuff, just none of the stuff with age limits attatched to them--even after she had passed that age limit. With her collection of more Dr. Pepper, a bit of clear cola, candy bars, more coffee, and even a few general supplies like laundry detergent.<br/><br/>At some point she slipped into people-watching mode. There weren't many people here, but her eyes ran over such people as there were, Morgan fixating, Freya's rising T-shirt--look somewhere else--the store owner, his eyes a little hungrier than was appropriate. That slight twitch to his left hand--did it coincide with some emotion? Left over from a war? Whatever the reason it might make just the right touch to flesh out the bartender in that story she'd been working on.<br/><br/>"Hands? Sure, no pro..." she bagan. Completing the "...blem" with a bit less gusto. Pull up Morgan's pants? No panties? She was embarassed at the way her heart rate picked up. She couldn't... well of course she could. Blushing bright red she hooked fingers into Morgan's belt loops, far too conscious of when her thumbs accidentally brushed her roommate's waist. "Is... better?" she asked.<br/><br/>Still flustered, she purchased her items. On the way out she exclaimed, "Oh! Go on, I'll be right out!" and ducked back into the store for something.<br/><br/>When she emerged a minute later she was caught entirely off guard by the feeling of a squeeze against her backside. With a squeel somewhere between indignance and horror she swatted ineffectively at *him* and ran to catch up with her roommates.