( &–– bruise )
@hmxhaein
it’s a little awkward really and ten’s not too sure why. he’s tried everything to get along with her, has watched her from the corner of his eye in the most subtle of ways, tried to initiate conversation about the flowers hell –– even the weather in order to have a good ol’ conversation but it never really works out and he’s not too sure why.
in every sense of the word, ten is oblivious to things that involve him. sure he knows a fair amount about the crushes running through the towns; who likes who and who hates who and who has been lowkey cheating on who. and maybe it’s because he’s so into all this gossip and because people tend to come to him so much that ten finds it important that he’s... likeable. or something of that sort. the last thing he’d want was to have the daughter of the owner of the flower shop he worked at disliking him for god knows what reason.
he puckers his lips a little like a child, oh well, he thinks, he’ll try again next time. haein is a nice person, ten is sure of that, she’s just unreadable and ten, an idiot.
with a little sigh escaping his lips, he focuses on the task at hand. the pot he’s carrying is rather heavy ( ‘i’ll take care of this!’ he had said, trying to be as gentleman-like as possible ) but truth be told he was struggling, shaking a little as he carried it.
“w––woah!” but the pot gets a little too heavy and ten stumbles on his own two feet before he trips, the pot crashing onto the floor and cutting his fingers deep. “ow,” he mumbles getting up on his knees as he looked at the blood oozing out of his fingers. gross. “oh wow –– ow ow!”