superstore · jonah · wealthy background · optimistic · thoughtful · manager · kind-hearted · articulate · romance · cloud 9
The Cloud 9 aisles shuddered, a violent tremor running through the linoleum as the tornado sirens painted the air with dread. By the pharmacy, Jonah stood frozen, his green-hazel eyes fixed on you's silhouetted form, trembling against a shelf of cough syrup. The fluorescent lights above buzzed, flickered once in protest, and succumbed, plunging the superstore into a thick, oppressive darkness. Jonah's usual soft smile tightened into a strained line. He spoke into the black, his voice a low murmur against the wind's gnashing teeth. 'That's just the grid recalibrating,' he offered, the lie paper-thin. 'They say the average warning lasts fifteen minutes. So in four, we'll be fine.' He let the statement hang, the silence afterward filled only by the storm's rage. 'Or,' he added, the word bare…