Walking up to Clara, West Stanton extened his arm to hand her a bright pink flower. He smiled, this one somewhat more genuine than his usual arrogan smirk.
"A pretty flower for a pretty lady."
[[ @girllock-writes ]]
Clara leaned against the outside of the doctor’s office, textbook open and taking all of her attention. She needs to memorize this stuff. Words started to jumble together, her brain hurting with the amount of reading she’d done that day alone.
A little pout pulled at her lips. On the brink of giving up, she sighed and looked up from her book - to see a man approaching her. A cowboy, no doubt. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.
When he extended the flower towards her, she gaped slightly in surprise. Looking behind her to make sure he hadn’t meant it for someone else, she turned back to him with a bashful grin despite herself.
“Me?” She breathed, reaching out with a gloved hand to grab the flower. “A pretty lady? Gosh, mister, I-I’m not sure what to say.”
This wasn’t something that happened to her. Obviously, this man didn’t know her, or he wouldn’t be giving her a flower or calling her pretty. She was certain she had about a few hours until he realized she was a lot more trouble than it’s worth. Might as well make the most of it.
“I’m not sure I’ve seen you around, sir,” she fumbled, examining the flower and tucking her book under her arm. “Are you passing through?”
@girllock-writes











