Back, bring it back || Hemelda
@riveraofstorms
When Héctor saw the sign on Main Street reading Zapatos Rivera he thought, huh. That can’t be a coincidence.
Firstly because Héctor had met a lot of Riveras in his time. The name was not so common as to be everywhere, rare enough that if someone yelled, ey, Rivera! He still turned to look, even if he was on his own, but it was common enough. Common enough for his first thought to be another Rivera, neat!
And then he focused on the shoe part.
He had only ever known one Rivera who had made shoes.
That had been pretty much all the excuse he’d needed to cross the road, dodging crowds of tourists as he went (he didn’t need to — with no music, it wasn’t like any of them could see him, but he really hated that feeling of having someone walk straight through him. Like someone walking over your grave, sending shivers up your spine… though the less said about graves the better, maybe). He ducked inside the shop, trying and probably failing to make it seem like it was a gust of wind that had just blown it open out of nowhere. He sneaked inside, hiding behind one of the aisles as he looked around.
There was a radio on somewhere towards the front of the store, playing a bouncy pop song. He focused on it, used it to bring himself a little closer; he still couldn’t touch the clothes on the shelves, but he could see his reflection in a mirror set along one wall, so that was good, at least. And it seemed like the shop was empty, so he wouldn’t have terrified some poor anciana looking for a new pair of loafers when he appeared out of thin air.
Moving towards the front of the store, Héctor looked for signs of life — namely, someone sat behind the counter, or singing along to the radio. He was almost right at the front of the shop when he caught sight of a woman bent over the desk, working on something he couldn’t quite see. Recognition hit him like a freight train — Imelda.
No way. There was no way this was happening. Was that why he was in Swynlake? Was that had brought him here?
Suddenly, she looked up, and Héctor let out a strangled yelp as he jumped back behind the shelf, using it to hide. He was just an ordinary guy looking at… high heels. Well, okay. Maybe she hadn’t seen him. Maybe he could steal just one more look...
