Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
I was quite sure I was good at walking but why do I feel like I might trip any time? Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Am I doing it right? Or should I start with my right foot? “Whatever, just don’t trip,” I kept telling myself. I stared at the other pair of feet on my side. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. So carefree. So—
“Watch out!” You warned but was too late when I decided to let the pole kiss my forehead.
I flinched and immediately rubbed my sore forehead. Everything was dizzy and unreal for a short while.
“Are you okay?” You asked, bending down to my level, your eyes full of concern. It was touching and embarrassing at the same time.
I thank the Goddess of Clumsiness for not letting me trip but having me walk into a pole instead. Good start for a date.
“Did that pole just magically sprout out of nowhere?” I mumbled as I continuously caressed my head.
You chuckled, “Let me see.”
I withdrew my hand and watched you scrutinize the bump on my forehead.
“Does it hurt badly?”
“No. I’m fine. Thank you,” I lied and took a step back, suddenly becoming aware of our proximity.
“You sure?”
I nodded. You gazed around the park, as if looking for something, and encouraged me to sit down at the bench near us.
“I’ll be back.” You said.
“Where—“
“I’ll be back. I promise,” You looked me in the eyes and I could’ve melted right then and there.
“Okay,” I muttered, averting my eyes to the ground. You started walking away and I mentally slapped myself for everything. Why was I here? What am I doing? This was a bad idea and I hated how your charm worked on me. I hate it. But I definitely don’t hate you.
Wasn’t I a warrior? Battle-ready and fully-armored? Then where on earth did my iron helmet go? A pole! A freaking pole just blessed me with humiliation. You probably won’t come back. Probably realized how bad this was just now. I feel so utterly stupid for taking off my armor and letting you run away with it. I buried my face in my hands and let the embarrassment wash over me.
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The Fifth Date
RomanceHer Solitude. His Company. Her Silence. His Words. Her Americano. His Caramel Macchiato. Their Date. Their Fifth Date. -TheGreatDutchess #goodluckgeorgia