sweet tea. -tkam

distracted.

-daisys pov-

    I stood there, frozen in embarrassment as I watched him walk away to work. Once he was out of sight I ran into my house, leaning back against the door

"Oh daisy Mae you damn fool!"

I slid down the door and laid my head in my folded arms in defeat.

"I should have known that was a silly idea.."

     I shook my head, and sat there, ashamed. So much for his respect, I thought to myself. What was I thinking?
     Parading myself around in a red bathing suit like a hooker, I could have got myself killed! All because I thought he might look at me... of course he looked at me, he looked at me like I was being insanely inappropriate and he was right.
         I went to get changed into normal day clothes, and passed myself in the bathroom mirror. I looked back at the chippy woman I saw, and sighed.
      I really was a whore wasn't I? They were right. Maybe all this time I really had been asking for it. I quickly got dressed in a powder blue sundress, and vigorously scrubbed away my red lipstick, not wanting any of the maycomb women to shame me any more than they do.
          Once dressed, I began washing clothes in my backyard, but as I did so, my mind wandered. I began to question my feelings for mr finch, as I tried to figure out why I had wanted his attention.
        He was a very handsome Man, undoubtedly, but many people are attractive, yet, I don't seek their attention. What was the end goal? What was I even wanting or expecting?
      Why did I act so impulsively? Furthermore, what did he really think? How would I ever know? Should I apologize? Thoughts and worries flooded my mind, but not a single answer.

-mauides pov-

I sat on my porch, sipping my tea, watching poor miss daisy wash the same dress for a half hour in her yard.
      The poor thing had seemed to change her mind about sunbathing, and I was about ready to wear out anyone who made her feel uncomfortable enough to stop.
       It brought a smile to my face to see her confident, enjoying her time, but now she had just reverted back into her more people pleasing self.
        But, regardless, it was quite the early morning show to see atticus walk past little miss daisys house only to see her all laid out in her bathing suit like a little gift wrapped present from the heavens for him.
       I almost couldn't help but wonder if miss Daisy Mae knew what she was doing to the poor man.

-atticus' pov-

I continued on my walk to work, and once I arrived at my office, I found myself having a particularly difficult time shaking the image of daisy in my mind.
       Though I had pressing matters to attend to, much more, matters that weren't to be taken lightly, and that required my upmost attention and focus.
      Of course I had no problem with daisy sun bathing, only, I wished she might have done it on my way back from work instead. I felt horrible about the fact that even if I primarily thought about my work, what I had seen this morning was in the back of my mind still, lingering.
        I felt bad for her, and I felt guilty for having even the slightest of  provocative thoughts on her.
      But I also felt bad for my clients, worrying even the smallest of distractions might hinder my performance. Especially such distractions as miss Daisy Mae.
      At some point in my case research I found myself having to re read the same lines over and over again, somehow unable to absorb the words, all of it turning into just jumbles of ink on the yellowing paper.
       But what I could think clearly about, was her. Somehow, in the seconds that I saw her, I was able to capture seemingly every small detail about her in that instance.
       And now, my mind has decided it was the right time to think over each and every detail of the young woman, appropriate or not.
     I shut my book in frustration and set my glasses on top of it, rubbing my forehead on a way to stop a headache.

"Mildred, a coffee, please..."

I said to the secretary who was retrieving books from the library

"Yes sir."

Said the woman, running off in an instant.

Once she came back with the coffee, I drank it, giving her a nod as I thanked her before she went back to her other duties.
      The inescapable distraction daisy had caused me was irksome, of course, though it wasn't her fault.
      However, even more than that, I loathed the simple reason that I had no explanation for why she had captivated my attention in an instant for the rest of the day, despite my desperate attempts to clear my mind.
       I knew daisy Mae was not like the other maycomb women in her own, charming way, and I knew she was a uniquely gorgeous woman, but I was almost certain no feelings lay in those factual observations.
       Years ago, years ago I knew I had once loved, and once longed for, but that with Jean my ability to feel that once again had died.
     It wasn't a sad thing, to never love again, it was a certain thing, and I knew it was still the same.
      So if I did not want daisy Mae in any light or way, why couldn't I get her out of my head. If I didn't long for her, as I knew I didn't, why did I think of her any time I saw a flower.
     She was an odd woman, and some of her ways couldn't be explained, much like my mental fixation on her.
      I knew I did not want her, I knew I did not want another woman at all, but I didn't know why she so effortlessly occupied my mind, no matter what I did.
    For that day, my every thought seemed haunted with daisy, just...daisy.