@vcblue
the park lined by food stalls, numerous picnic blankets strewn about the place with the alluring scent of sweets and savouries alike lingering at the centre of the open field. a sense of suffocation that overwhelms her as she moves from stall to stall, almost too much for her senses to handle. too many options beckoning for a taste, with the array of colours adorning the trays of each stall, ice cream cone in hand as she peaks past each opening on her toes peering from the background.
a careless turn lands her slamming up against a taller frame, the ice cream in her hand now misplaced on the taller male’s shirt. her initial reaction, a subtle raise of arched brows as she took a step back, a delayed oh leaving from her lips as if to compensate for her momentary impassiveness that broke her friendly facade. one she tried to build up effectively for public purposes, and like a switch, hands raising, tissue in hand as she slaps it against the other’s shirt in hopeful attempt that her cordial acting was believable. “oh no, i’m so sorry!” practiced genuineness bleeding from her words, more tissue retrieved from her purse, somewhat aggressively slapped onto his shirt again. “i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to.” hues glazed by feigned distress as brows form apologetically across her features.
“i really didn’t mean to, i’m so sorry.” she continues. does she offer to do the dry cleaning? does she offer to buy him a new shirt? it looked kind of ugly to begin with, she was growing sceptical of his choice of shirts. does she tell him his shirt was ugly to begin with and that this wasn’t really a lose? or does she continue apologising?
“i’m really sorry.” downcast hues as she spoke again.