The Birds Made Me Fall Asleep.
Ashley recognized those features without even looking twice. Even if she was a model -- not everyone would recognize her and it was for the best. But they also wouldn't assume she did anything out of the norm, ah the mistakes people made always earned her some sort of rotten fruit to be reaped. Earning a smile without looking again, she buried her face into the book in her hands instead, sitting on the bench out in the park -- it was easy to be completely blindsided -- and now she felt like she had been.
She just wanted to get to know him though. He seemed like a nice enough person and yet her social awkwardness rang it's own set of disharmonious bells against her chest, her throat constricting, even when her eyes dared to dart upwards and look at him again. Just for a second time that was a bit longer than the last.
Clearing her throat, she closed her eyes, trying to maybe wish him away at the same time, she was far too shy for this, a woman like her showing shyness was both trapping and misleading as well as the truth at the same time. Sometimes she used people's ignorance for her own gain, other times -- much like now, she was genuinely shy. And so her eyes would stay closed, with a book perched in front of her face. Looking like a complete fool.
He stopped by a tree in the park after his daily jog. Sweat slowly rolled down his face, dripping from his chin onto the grass. He bent over, leaning his rear against the tree while placing his hands on his knees. He took several deep breaths, hoping he'd be able to regain a normal pulse quickly.
Straightening his back, he begins to roll his neck in circles. He ran in place for a few minutes, before continuing to stretch his body. He knew if he skipped the crucial step, he'd only be given the reward of cramps. After he finished his routine, he looked around the park for a short amount of seconds. It wasn't every day he had enough time to look at the view. Quite honestly, he forgot how the park looked. He only remembered the trail he ran every morning, nothing else.
He spotted a bench with an vacant seat next to a girl. He looked to his side to see if any bikers were about to come down the path. As he made his way over to the bench, he pushed his hair upward, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his shirt. As he approached the bench, he looked over to the woman reading and proceeded to ask, "Is this seat empty?"
