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Call it wishful thinking, whatever it was, but Saint loved to think that perhaps he was the only one who could make that crybaby smile.
When streams of light came through the doors and windows, the girl had left in a hurried whimsy, hiccuping as she reached the door. Before opening it, she turned around to give Saint a deep bow.
"I'm - hic - sorry for the - hic - trouble last night. I hope I wasn't a bother. You're v - hic - ery kind - hic -. Thank you."
The girl sniffled then wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. A tired smile crept up to her face before she opened the door, pulled her hood back up and walked away.
Saint let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
Did last night really happen? Saint was the type of person to rarely look someone in the eye, much less talk with them as much as he did with her. Finnick was an exception. He saw him every day and was the only person in this world he could truly call 'friend'.
But this girl... he didn't even know her name but he felt like his soul had known her for centuries.
Saint feels his face suddenly heat up and he coughs once, burying his head in his arms and groaning.
Since when did he become so cheesy? He isn't that type of person.
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Saint wasn't necessarily in much of a hurry to get home. The weather hadn't felt this nice in a long time, so he walked leisurely.
On normal days, Saint would keep his head down and walk as fast as he could. He didn't like being near so many people; it made him feel uneasy. This day, however, he welcomed the sounds of birds chirping and the morning dew and scents still lingering in the air. Close to where he worked, there was a playground already swarming with little kids, their shouts of joy disrupting the peaceful air. He never noticed how beautiful morning really sounded.
"I-scream, you-scream, gimme that, gimme that ice-cream! Get your ice-cream here, while they're nice and frosty! Only $2.50 each!"
A high-pitched voice quickly grabs Saint's attention. He cranes his neck, trying to find the source.
The search isn't very long. From the very corner of the street, just along the gate of the playground, Saint spots a little girl, about 6-ish. Her blonde hair is neatly tied up in twin pig-tails and she was sitting behind a cluttered table that was colorfully arranged with ice-cream cones slabbed with globs of what appeared to be ice-cream.
She gazes longingly at every person that passes by her. She'd repeat her little phrase over and over, like a mantra. A broken record player stuck on repeat.
Saint, amused, crosses the street towards the little girl. He stopped in front of her table and only then did he notice the girl's swimming eyes. She, upon noticing his arrival, quickly rubs her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.
"What are you looking at, old man?" She grumbles.
Saint raises his eyebrow. The girl's sharp tone wasn't what he'd expected to hear. Instead of scolding her and walking away, Saint bends down to look at the options.
Underneath the cones were sticky-notes that had words such as 'chocolate' or 'vanilla' sprawled on them with crayon.
"Wow!" Saint gushes with exaggerated enthusiasm, "Did you make all this yourself?"
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The girl looks up at him, her chin jutted out in obvious pride.
"Of course! Me and my sister made all of them together. What? Did ya' think I was a phony?"
"Of course not," Saint says, smiling gently. He looks at the sign beside the cones. "$2.50 each, right?"
The girl's eyes grow bigger than the moon.
"Yeah, $2.50 each! It can go cheaper than that if you want." She squeals.
Saint reaches into his pocket an fishes out 3 one-dollar bills.
"May I get one vanilla ice-cream?" He asks, handing the bills to her.
The girl quickly snatches up the bills, cradling them as if they were a priceless treasure. She takes one of the cones and shoves it into Saint's outstretched hand.
"Here, take it!"
Saint's smile grew fond. He waves at the girl before walking away, taking small licks of the chocolate ice-cream as he did (he didn't want to bother telling the girl that she had given him the wrong flavor). He couldn't stop smiling the whole way home.
