she tries to contain the skip in her step as she goes down the streets. it's not that she's particularly happy, it's just that it's automatic. but she tries to contain it all the same because people tend to stare at the girl who isn't quite a girl any longer skipping down the street.
she doesn't like to draw attention to herself.
she's (not skipping) down the street when he appears in front of her, like the magical prince charming mentioned in all the fairytales. except he isn't quite charming, not with his messy hair, unshaved face and ruffled clothes.
he looks wonderful to her all the same.
hello, she says, all prim and proper, the way her momma taught her, how are you today?
he blinks, startled that this girl in the pigtails, a complete stranger, is talking to him but he answers all the same, voice scratchy from not enough water and speech, i think i'm fine, thank you.
she falls in love immediately with his voice and his scruffy appearance and so she strikes up a conversation about the weather and dogs and the stock market. it takes a few misses before she hits gold and it turns out that he's interested in dance.
really? she giggles, her hand to her chest. so am i. (she's never danced in her life. he doesn't need to know that) and she fabricates an elaborate lie about how she hurt her ankle and can never dance again and oh, she has his sympathy and a name to go along with it.
between tsks, he tells her his name and she repeats it on her tongue, delighted at the sound. and she tells him that her name is like the stars because she was named after one, the 7th one in the sky on the day she was born.
(they meet again, this time without the facial hair and the pigtails and the eccentricities and he's not bad looking at all)
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