м k j (![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} jasper) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} valesco, |
Between the loo and the dance floor Mira had managed to wrap herself even further into frenzied alarm, resulting in a rather volatile and emotional manner of being. So, it was of little surprise that upon getting caught by Miles in her desperate attempt to leave unnoticed that she reacted poorly to the sight of him. Her eyes widened, and she almost automatically responded to him.
"I'm pregnant!" she blurted, actually unable to entertain any conversation topic less significant than the one currently encompassing her thoughts. He was worried about being left lonesome at midnight? Oh, well, then gladly she would gift him a legitimate concern to fret over! Mira pushed his hands away from her, as they were hovering dangerously close to her waist, and looked him straight in the eye. Her gaze may have been hallow, for nothing could truly distract her racing thoughts, but Mira attempted her very best at appearing wild.
She would have to start moving again, or else her legs would give way to their sickly nerves and collapse beneath her. Mira's hands went to her face for a moment, palms pushing into the side of her face as her mouth fumbled with what, if anything, else to say. There was always something to say, just like how there was always attention to be had, neither of which she appeared to want nor possess at the moment.
She was going to be sick. One hand flew to her stomach, and the other clamped over her own mouth. Stomach and throat boiling, Mira bent over enough for her hair to fall in front of her eyes. Stare broken with Miles, she took this moment as a chance to run, and immediately sought to do so. Using her shoulder like a battering ram, Mira thrust herself forward in hopes of becoming once again lost in the crowd.
"I'm pregnant!" she blurted, actually unable to entertain any conversation topic less significant than the one currently encompassing her thoughts. He was worried about being left lonesome at midnight? Oh, well, then gladly she would gift him a legitimate concern to fret over! Mira pushed his hands away from her, as they were hovering dangerously close to her waist, and looked him straight in the eye. Her gaze may have been hallow, for nothing could truly distract her racing thoughts, but Mira attempted her very best at appearing wild.
She would have to start moving again, or else her legs would give way to their sickly nerves and collapse beneath her. Mira's hands went to her face for a moment, palms pushing into the side of her face as her mouth fumbled with what, if anything, else to say. There was always something to say, just like how there was always attention to be had, neither of which she appeared to want nor possess at the moment.
She was going to be sick. One hand flew to her stomach, and the other clamped over her own mouth. Stomach and throat boiling, Mira bent over enough for her hair to fall in front of her eyes. Stare broken with Miles, she took this moment as a chance to run, and immediately sought to do so. Using her shoulder like a battering ram, Mira thrust herself forward in hopes of becoming once again lost in the crowd.
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