黒尾鉄朗
♡︎ ⤻ ˚ who knew finding 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 would be
such an 𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙚 to all her problems.
he was her 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮.
˖⁺ se·ren·i·ty
/səˈrenədē/
noun
the state of being 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢,
𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡, and 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙙.
( ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴀʙᴜsᴇ ,
...
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ONE-HUNDRED
THERE WAS A HITCH IN HER THROAT, Sara was grabbed at a stump, holding three wine glasses in between each of her fingers.
Her focus was poised, easing the cups off the table and turning her body over to spring her journey back to Misumi's table.
Her eyes creased making sure to walk mindfully through the guests, making sure to announce her polished words.
The ones that Misumi constantly pressed her to utilize during moments like these. Subsonsicouly rolling her eyes at all the people who wouldn't step out of her way.
Of course, she wasn't allowed to say anything to them — having to resume walking, giving them an insignificant scold through the ridge of her eyes.
The conception did cross her mind here and there. The fact that other people noticed her struggling to handle the drinks, yet almost no one proposed to offer the extra set of hands to help her make it through the core of the party.
Truly, it wasn't a surprise on her end.
All the guests that appear are all snobby prosperous characters who conserve their time only for essential points. Getting out of their way to accommodate someone was definitely not on their list of importance.
"Here, let me help you with that." A disembodied voice was gathered from behind Sara's sluggish progress.
His voice was a little on the gruff side, yet his tone matched remarkably melodious to the ear — delicate with his words as he extended for genuine assistance that Sara so crucially necessitated.
She fanned out in repose to the channel of the stranger's compensation, promptly turning over with a fresh positive grin on her profile to greet her helping stranger.
As soon as she curved over, someway or somehow, the side of her hand balanced over — dropping the filled glass over the guys' footwear. Breaking the glass as it collapsed on the solid surface of bare pavement.
There was a deafening clink, hitting the ground with such force. The glassware shattering upon immediate contact, splattering its liquids around the ends of the man's dressing slacks.
Sara let out a wind of astonished gasp, instantly bending down to pick up the mayhem. "Holy shit, I'm so sorry about this I swear I didn't even-"
"It's perfectly fine, please don't let this worry you." The voice replied, his hand was reached for hers, preventing her from picking up all the broken glass.
"Here, let's not pick up the glass, you'll hurt yourself." The strapping voice commanded, watching Sara splurge into a frenetic mess of distress.
She felt terrible. It was only rare when Sara felt this way, she knew that if a random chick scattered unknown fluids all over her dressing heels, she would raise hell.
