A few seconds into her getaway, Amber spared a glance back, just to make sure Eric hadn't stayed behind, slumping in his moping ineptitude. To her delight, he was leaning over his wheel just as intently as she, concentrating with narrowed eyes. Better yet, he was cutting into her path at a narrow angle. Oh, that crash would be spectalar. If she let it happen. Which she wouldn't. Amber spun away, to avoid Eric's trajectory, but that wasn't enough, he must've predicted that because he was coming closer, and closer, and--
Breakdown.
Amber let a tense moment pass, foot still on the pedal and wheel turned sharply in the direction opposite Eric; listened to the ride attendants, technically polite but with a heavy edge of snappishness, telling everyone that their turn was up and that they could get back in line if they wanted more. It really was over.
She sprung to her feet, then winced; she wasn't so young anymore to bounce from one stance to another, particularly after spending so long hunched over and with her legs scrunched up. She'd be feeling that backache for a while. It was nothing, however, compared to the joy of being able to grin at Eric and lament cheerfully, "Awwww, so close and yet so far."
His coat and suit were wrinkled from the waist down, and his breathing was accelerated-- as was hers, she realized. Game adrenaline. The rink was dark, but other multi-colored lights from the carnival shone over him, casting flashes of greens and blues and reds over him. Still, he seemed relaxed, like he'd released part of the invisible weight he'd been shouldering. And by now Amber recognized that look, coy and tender; he was calling her to come close.
Amber wobbled out of the car, her heels once more proving they weren't made for carnival grounds. It'd be easy to walk straight into Eric's arms and collect a kiss; to wrap an arm around his back and share body warmth once more. And yet it wouldn't be easy at all, because face to face again, Amber remembered that slight, of being brushed off. "I--"
"Everyone off!" hollered one of the attendants.
"Alright already," Amber muttered. She took Eric's hand and led him off the rink, looking ahead as they made their way through the roped-off exist. What she said next might spark off yet another fight; might even ruin the evening, based on how badly their previous arguments had escalated over a misstep. But this niggling sensation would dig into her all night, growing sharper every time she saw him; better remove it now while it was still just a thorn. "Look. Whatever it was you didn't want to tell me, I get it." She didn't, not really; she didn't get what he was holding back, or why he felt the need to do so. But she did get that it was off-limits. "I'm not gonna force your life story out of you." She paused there, not sure what to say next. There wasn't really anything to say.
no subject
Breakdown.
Amber let a tense moment pass, foot still on the pedal and wheel turned sharply in the direction opposite Eric; listened to the ride attendants, technically polite but with a heavy edge of snappishness, telling everyone that their turn was up and that they could get back in line if they wanted more. It really was over.
She sprung to her feet, then winced; she wasn't so young anymore to bounce from one stance to another, particularly after spending so long hunched over and with her legs scrunched up. She'd be feeling that backache for a while. It was nothing, however, compared to the joy of being able to grin at Eric and lament cheerfully, "Awwww, so close and yet so far."
His coat and suit were wrinkled from the waist down, and his breathing was accelerated-- as was hers, she realized. Game adrenaline. The rink was dark, but other multi-colored lights from the carnival shone over him, casting flashes of greens and blues and reds over him. Still, he seemed relaxed, like he'd released part of the invisible weight he'd been shouldering. And by now Amber recognized that look, coy and tender; he was calling her to come close.
Amber wobbled out of the car, her heels once more proving they weren't made for carnival grounds. It'd be easy to walk straight into Eric's arms and collect a kiss; to wrap an arm around his back and share body warmth once more. And yet it wouldn't be easy at all, because face to face again, Amber remembered that slight, of being brushed off. "I--"
"Everyone off!" hollered one of the attendants.
"Alright already," Amber muttered. She took Eric's hand and led him off the rink, looking ahead as they made their way through the roped-off exist. What she said next might spark off yet another fight; might even ruin the evening, based on how badly their previous arguments had escalated over a misstep. But this niggling sensation would dig into her all night, growing sharper every time she saw him; better remove it now while it was still just a thorn. "Look. Whatever it was you didn't want to tell me, I get it." She didn't, not really; she didn't get what he was holding back, or why he felt the need to do so. But she did get that it was off-limits. "I'm not gonna force your life story out of you." She paused there, not sure what to say next. There wasn't really anything to say.