“In what world was that okay?”
— send one for my muse’s reaction; [ @eleutherea ]
“It wasn’t on purpose!” She nearlyscreeched her frustration – he’d been going at her for a while, and, while shereadily admitted that she deserved it, after all, she’d practically stabbed theman’s foot with her heel (what ever hadpossessed her to make her wear stilettos that day, she would never know – she wasnot normally even allowed to haveheels because of how much taller than her members she was). Yes, she’ddefinitely deserved it, but she was tired, sleepy and hungry, and in no moodfor it. And, any moment she tried to actually focus on what he was saying, hereyes flew to the book he’d tucked under his arm – she couldn’t read the title,and that was bringing her near madness already.
“Look, I’m—genuinely very sorry for yourfoot, I had no intention whatsoever to start a polka on it, but I did, and, as far as I know, turning back time isnot an option. So… is there anything I can do to make it up to you – other thanwaiting for the blame fest to end…? I really don’t have that much time.” No,no, no. That had been too snarky, too rude. “…wait. Awful wording. But,honestly. Let me buy you a coffee – or whatever drink of choice, and tell mehow to make it up to you.”
