Flash Fiction Friday – Meet-Cute Aborted

I saw a pretty boy today, so I wrote this:

She’d just shoved her phone back in her pocket after answering a text when she spotted him. He looked like a slimmer Thor, a face at once handsome and beautiful and just the right amount of beard. Blond hair, just wind-tussled enough, spilled down to his shoulders, a few tresses in the front pulled back and tied into a small bun at the back of his head. He wore jeans and a black, long-sleeved tee, and was leaning back where he sat on the bench, eyes closed and face turned toward the sun. A small smile crowned his serene face, and in his lap was a stack of papers, another next to him on the bench. It seemed early in the term to be correcting exams, but maybe they were make-up assignments of some kind.

She wasn’t sure what possessed her to try and arrange a meet-cute. Maybe it was just his pretty face, or the lovely sunny weather, but somehow she decided to feign tripping over his legs, which stretched a little ways into the path she was walking on. She could see it in her mind’s eye: she’d trip, her papers would fly everywhere and he’d hurry to help her pick them up. She’d be flustered and he’d be apologetic and they’d get to talking and hey, after a few dates he’d probably find it silly and endearing that she’d tripped herself up as an ice-breaker. She felt her heart pounding as she neared his legs, but when time came to trip it was as if her muscles locked up, her brain protesting against the notion of making itself fall. Instead of tripping over his feet, she sort of tapped his foot with one of hers and then took an awkward leap. The smack of her shoes on the pavement made him start and look around in surprise. She stared at him, wide-eyed, as she clutched her papers to her chest, crinkling them, rather than dropping them to tumble dramatically through the air.

“Sorry,” she mumbled in choked tones and turned on her heel, hurrying away.


School is starting next week for me. Exciting!

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