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chapter five
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𐦟 OMNISCIENT 𐦟
                THE GROCERY STORE hums under the soft glow of overhead lights, aisles half-stocked and quiet at this late hour. Audrey pushes a half-filled cart slowly down the cereal aisle, her little sister Maya trailing beside her, dragging her feet and crunching on a half-open bag of Hot Cheetos like it's a protest.
"I told you I was only grabbing a few things," Audrey says, skimming the shelves for granola. "You the one who turned it into a whole trip."
Maya shrugs, licking her fingers. "We ain't got snacks at home. Aubrey big-back self ate them all."
Audrey exhales sharply through her nose, the corner of her mouth twitching. She's tired. Bone-deep tired. The kind that sinks into her chest and refuses to leave. But being with Maya, even when she's being a mouthy brat, grounds her.
"I'm taking y'all school shopping next week," Audrey says after a beat. "So be thinking about shoes."
"Need some new Jordans for sure," Maya says without hesitation, grinning. "Let me get online."
"You got Jordan money?"
"I got Audrey money."
Audrey snorts. "That's why I'm tired now."
They keep walking. Maya's phone buzzes in her pocket, and she slows down to check it. Audrey doesn't notice at first—she's reaching for a box of Frosted Flakes—until she hears someone behind her.
"Hey."
That voice.
She turns, heart hitching slightly. Santana stands a few feet away, hands in her pockets, cart nearly empty. She's in black sweats, a fitted black tee, slides. Her locs are pulled back into a low ponytail. There's a soft glint in her eyes, that same stillness that caught Audrey off guard the first time they met. Even under the harsh fluorescent lighting, she looks... good.
Audrey blinks, then lets out a soft breath. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"Same," Santana murmurs, eyes trailing over her slowly. "You off work?"
"Yeah," Audrey says, tucking a loc behind her ear. "Grabbing groceries for my siblings before it gets too late."
Santana nods, her gaze lingering. "You look... different."
Audrey arches a brow. "Bad different?"
"Nah," Santana says, voice low. "Just... real. Comfortable."
There's a short silence that isn't awkward—just charged. Like the air shifted. Neither of them moves.
"How's your hand?" Audrey asks, voice softening.
"Healing. Still can't train fully yet."
Audrey nods. "That's good. Just let it heal, and you'll be back out there in no time."
"You sound like a nurse."
"I am a nurse," she says, and Santana's lips curve into a slow grin.
"Right. Forgot. That calm, in-control energy." She leans a little closer, just enough to lower her voice. "I'm guessing you don't let too many people see you outside the scrubs."
Audrey's breath catches. It's subtle, but Santana notices.
"I don't," Audrey admits.
"You let me though."