Jitterbug
A stroll brought her to one of the parks, whereupon she'd been struck by the sight of the young man seemingly deep in practicing his motions for something. Swings? A sports player? It seemed to be the case.
For a moment, it baffled her as to why he might continue to practice when there were so few sports-related facilities across the entirety of the city, and no events, to her knowledge, but it demonstrated his resolve to keep himself in top shape, ready for if that might change.
If anything, that determination was attractive; if he had the commitment to pursue such a regime even without certainty about when he might next play (professionally, if he was experienced within such circles), then it spoke volumes about him. She'd felt intoxicated by the display, seating herself on the grassy bank nearby and watching in awe of the movements. Interrupting his schedule would be unfair, until there was a break of any sort, she could marvel from the side-lines.











