Arina simply sat there though, seemingly patient enough to wait for me. "Sure, okay. Leave me to sit here on the floor. I don't mind at all." her sarcasm had a slicing effect on my shock.
"Ah! Crap, I' am so sorry about that!" an apology was the first thing that came out of my mouth, smooth? Not really. Appropriate? Oh yeah. I immediately extended a helpful hand to her, as to which she snatches it. With one pull she's off the ground--who would have thought that she was so light? "Are you okay ma'am?"
"I'm not that old you know." she shot back coolly while dusting off her light, fluttery pearl white skirt. The hem struggled and puffed about as her hands brushed off the unwanted dirt. "I'm fine. Now if you excuse me, I need to get myself back home."
"Uh, wait a minute!" I found myself demanding. You need to see through my point of view: I just bumped a cute girl like her to the ground. As she was holding heavy bags of groceries. I'll never understand how they survived the fall, but needless to say I was ridden with guilt. I also need to add that I never got a good look at her face until she turned around right there and then. If you were to ask me what the most memorable part about Arina was, I'd tell you that the girl's eyes were the most captivating. All you needed to do was gaze into her shiny blue orbs just to figure out what she was feeling, thinking. Apparently, her lover and I have the same talent for mind-reading. It's all in the eyes baby. Excuse that, moving on.
"Yes, what is it?" she answered in an irritable manner; from the looks of it, she wasn't too keen on talking to me. Like her looks, Arina was a bombshell at heart so any sour move on my part could ruin the next few minutes. I was quick to observe that she dressed pretty damn sophisticated, or at least she managed to make it look like that. Her arms were covered up with a long sleeve white blouse while a black tank top peeked out from the v-cut her first shirt made. I did my best to ignore her chest by giving myself an eyeful of her black cowboy boots; they were lined with silver thread. Want to know how I could tell it was silver? It glimmered in the fluorescent light above us. In other words, this girl had that mature girl image going for her. Surprising? It kind of was.
"Ah! Crap, I' am so sorry about that!" an apology was the first thing that came out of my mouth, smooth? Not really. Appropriate? Oh yeah. I immediately extended a helpful hand to her, as to which she snatches it. With one pull she's off the ground--who would have thought that she was so light? "Are you okay ma'am?"
"I'm not that old you know." she shot back coolly while dusting off her light, fluttery pearl white skirt. The hem struggled and puffed about as her hands brushed off the unwanted dirt. "I'm fine. Now if you excuse me, I need to get myself back home."
"Uh, wait a minute!" I found myself demanding. You need to see through my point of view: I just bumped a cute girl like her to the ground. As she was holding heavy bags of groceries. I'll never understand how they survived the fall, but needless to say I was ridden with guilt. I also need to add that I never got a good look at her face until she turned around right there and then. If you were to ask me what the most memorable part about Arina was, I'd tell you that the girl's eyes were the most captivating. All you needed to do was gaze into her shiny blue orbs just to figure out what she was feeling, thinking. Apparently, her lover and I have the same talent for mind-reading. It's all in the eyes baby. Excuse that, moving on.
"Yes, what is it?" she answered in an irritable manner; from the looks of it, she wasn't too keen on talking to me. Like her looks, Arina was a bombshell at heart so any sour move on my part could ruin the next few minutes. I was quick to observe that she dressed pretty damn sophisticated, or at least she managed to make it look like that. Her arms were covered up with a long sleeve white blouse while a black tank top peeked out from the v-cut her first shirt made. I did my best to ignore her chest by giving myself an eyeful of her black cowboy boots; they were lined with silver thread. Want to know how I could tell it was silver? It glimmered in the fluorescent light above us. In other words, this girl had that mature girl image going for her. Surprising? It kind of was.
