the elegant rachel m. corner (![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} malengled) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} valesco, |
Smeth!
Rachel was beginning to think this had been a really terrible idea.
It wasn't that Kirby Catchlove wasn't a perfect gentleman, or anything of the sort. It was more that she felt that she was a terrible date. Getting her feet wet socially had been something she was attempting to do since she slowly started piecing the train-wreck of her life together, but she never really got around to it. And while the dance was certainly a large social gathering, it wasn't the sort she was used to.
It was late, and Kirby had disappeared, albeit reluctantly until Rachel had assured him it would be okay if they ended their "date" early, and she was by herself in one of the more deserted corners of the room, feeling more as if she were strictly an observer, rather than somebody who was able to participate.
But it just felt wrong being here, as if she had some sort of unfinished business to attend to that was nagging at her. She lifted her hands to tie the ribbon 'round her mask again and observed the moving bodies on the dance floor and the congregations of people and felt an inexplicable sadness settle in her. It was late enough for her to duck out, wasn't it?
Rachel was beginning to think this had been a really terrible idea.
It wasn't that Kirby Catchlove wasn't a perfect gentleman, or anything of the sort. It was more that she felt that she was a terrible date. Getting her feet wet socially had been something she was attempting to do since she slowly started piecing the train-wreck of her life together, but she never really got around to it. And while the dance was certainly a large social gathering, it wasn't the sort she was used to.
It was late, and Kirby had disappeared, albeit reluctantly until Rachel had assured him it would be okay if they ended their "date" early, and she was by herself in one of the more deserted corners of the room, feeling more as if she were strictly an observer, rather than somebody who was able to participate.
But it just felt wrong being here, as if she had some sort of unfinished business to attend to that was nagging at her. She lifted her hands to tie the ribbon 'round her mask again and observed the moving bodies on the dance floor and the congregations of people and felt an inexplicable sadness settle in her. It was late enough for her to duck out, wasn't it?
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