( she doesn't mean to be late. she'd just lost track of time; balancing a strange urge to go through every single shirt in her closet with tending to the bandaging and careful application of topical pain relief she'd gotten from the doctor, and then of course her quick stop at the pharmacy, meant she'd completely missed any internal alarms she might have set to get her moving on-time.
on the plus side, running late means her brain doesn't quite have time to overthink the entire conversation yet, as it's a little too preoccupied with making sure she doesn't stab her own eyes out with kohl eyeliner. eyeliner that is, unsurprisingly, a little more difficult to put on when your arms don't quite want to cooperate.
on the other hand, though, running late means running late, which she really hates. by the time the taxi she'd hailed pulls up to the little diner, skye's embarrassed enough that she practically flies out the passenger door, head turning back to wave furiously at the driver in thanks as she sprints towards the entrance.
or, you know, right smack into the man waiting for her ever-so-patiently by the door. maybe she should have been looking ahead instead of back while sprinting. )
God, Wally, I'm so — ( clumsy, apparently. ) Sorry. Are you okay?
( thankfully, she's not dead, just consistently embarrassed by her own stupidity. )
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on the plus side, running late means her brain doesn't quite have time to overthink the entire conversation yet, as it's a little too preoccupied with making sure she doesn't stab her own eyes out with kohl eyeliner. eyeliner that is, unsurprisingly, a little more difficult to put on when your arms don't quite want to cooperate.
on the other hand, though, running late means running late, which she really hates. by the time the taxi she'd hailed pulls up to the little diner, skye's embarrassed enough that she practically flies out the passenger door, head turning back to wave furiously at the driver in thanks as she sprints towards the entrance.
or, you know, right smack into the man waiting for her ever-so-patiently by the door. maybe she should have been looking ahead instead of back while sprinting. )
God, Wally, I'm so — ( clumsy, apparently. ) Sorry. Are you okay?
( thankfully, she's not dead, just consistently embarrassed by her own stupidity. )