Prompt# 234- Mea Culpa - Thems the Breaks - Tekia - original

[tekia.livejournal.com]

Title: Thems the Breaks
Fandom: Original
Prompt: mea culpa
Warnings: traces of yuri
Rating: PG
Summary: This is how I fall in love. Sequeal to this.

She was just a face in the crowd.
I knew her by name, of course, but nothing about her at all. She was beautiful, and popular, everything I wasn’t. She was vibrant and cunning while I was shy and frightened.
We were on different ends of the spectrum and, truthfully, I didn’t care.
Until the day I realized that she saw me.
We were in a conference hall that could seat fifty, but only held maybe twenty. She sat far away from me, amid her own group of friends and I sat alone, waiting for my companion to return from a food dash. I was bored, waiting for the panel to begin and really ready to fall asleep in my chair, as I had been ill the past week and still didn’t feel quite up to par.
I listened as the people around me chatted about this and that, but I wasn’t really into it. My head pounded and my body demanded the rest that I was refusing it. I had already scanned the room and felt better off just staying in my seat and letting the crowd ebb and flow around me. I was far too shy to stand up and join in with anybody.
I folded my arms over my chest, tucked my chin down, and closed my eye and drifted off with the steady thrum of chatter surrounding me. A few moments later, as I realized that I really was falling asleep, I took a bracing breath, stretched and opened my eyes. I looked around the room and my gaze collided with hers.
My eyes widened as I realized that, yes, she was staring at me with a strange smile on her lips. Her smile grew once she realized I had noticed her and I hesitantly returned the smile before biting my lips and turning away. I could feel a flush coming to my face and I mentally cursed my blood. I knew my face was as red as a beat at that moment.
Then my companion returned and my stomach rumbled loudly as she handed over the fast food. I pushed aside thoughts of the woman to my left and listened to my friend chat about who she met at the convention.
It wasn’t until the next day, the last day of the convention that my greatest faux pas happened. My blunder and shame.
I let flights of fancy take me away in my thoughts often enough, but I rarely ever let them out of my head. Heaven forbid someone find out about my desires and I get mocked. I shouldn’t survive it, I’ve always maintained. I was shy and retreating, something I had learned from high school and never learned to overcome with age as they said one did. They lied, I learned. Here I was, past the stage of being an adult, and still afraid of being judged by my looks, speech, and intelligence. Fear of mockery haunted me, and I was careful never to let anybody in.
Strangely, physical touch was one of those defenses. I never let anybody close enough to touch me. I shook hands and that was it. I hugged my family, of course, but it always felt odd to me and I ended hugs as quickly as I could. My body was my own, and I often wondered if that was what sent me over the edge.
It was my turn for a food run and I had just gathered two plates from the free buffet and was retuning to our shared room. The hall was crowded with con goers and I was careful to avoid bumping into anybody, but that was sometimes hard, with the wild antics of the more avid fanatics.
I slowed down as I approached a thick press and watched as a few people played out a scene and I smiled at the funny bits, careful not to draw attention to myself, while still trying to make my way through and around the corner. There was an opening close to the wall, and I quickly took it and that proved to be mea culpa. I slammed hard into a body coming the opposite direction and crushed the plastic cups between our bodies.
Instantly, cold ice and drink pressed into my clothes and I gasped as a chunk of ice slid down the scooped neckline and into the cradle of my bra. My body bowed at the chill and I heard a chuckle.
I could feel the blood drain from my face as I recognized the voice and I didn’t want to look up, but couldn’t resist the draw. Her shirt was soaked and had bits of food flaked on her face, but she was smiling, her dark green eyes alight with mirth.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I gasped, brow puckered with fear. She hated me, surely.
She plucked her shirt between two fingers and tugged it away from her chest. “No biggie,” she said, eyes flicking up from her shirt and to my face. I couldn’t look at her as my face flamed up, so I focused on her ruined shirt under her jacket before I realized I was staring at her chest, then, in a panic, looked up, into her eyes, then away.
I didn’t know what to do. Panic was flaring in my chest and my heart was pounding loudly enough to be heard over the crowd of people.
I heard her give another laugh, softer this time and felt a hand touch my elbow. I looked up at her and felt breathless at the genuine smile she gave me. “It’s really all right.”
She was guiding us away from the crowd and I dumbly followed, my whole body shaking with shame. I couldn’t believe this had happened. I was such an idiot. I beat myself up as she lead us to a bathroom and I finally set down the plates and drinks I had been clutching like my life had depended on it.
There was a huge mirror in the bathroom and harsh light that showed off every flaw I had. For a moment, as always, I was drawn to my reflection. I frowned at my appearance, noticing the dark marks under my eyes, the discoloration left behind by the angry flush of my cheeks and neck. My thick hair that refused to obey a comb and the baby fat on my face that never went away.
Then I realized that I had been wearing a white blouse.
The flush on my face returned and I rushed to the sink to quickly wash out the brown soda that had soaked in. She stood beside me, pressing a paper towel to her chest, still chuckling softly.
She told me her name and I told her I knew it already. She grinned and turned off the water and turned toward me before saying, “You’re supposed to answer an introduction with an introduction.”
I ducked my head and hated myself for letting slip my stalker tendencies. My blush wasn’t going away, so I swallowed hard and gave her my name. I could feel embarrassed tears in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeated.
“So you’ve said, but these things happen. Don’t worry about it.”
She shrugged off her jacket and dropped it on my shoulders. “You should probably cover up, though, there are a lot of perv.s out there.” She walked to the bathroom door and smiled over her shoulder at me. “You can give it back to me later, after you’ve changed.”
I nodded dumbly and watched her leave the room, teeth gnawing on my tongue, face aflame. I slipped my arms into the sleeves of the jacket after a moment of silence and tossed the wasted food away before returning to my hotel room. I wasn’t hungry anymore and just wanted to crawl under a blanket and die, so if my friend wanted food so bad, she was going to have to go get it herself. I wasn’t going to go through that again.
As I walked up empty halls to my room, I tugged the jacket close and smiled softly to myself. I did talk to her, after all. That popular, clever, beautiful woman.
The next morning I was sure to keep the jacket with me so I could return it to her the first chance I got, but I didn’t see her around that day at all. The convention ended mid afternoon and guilt rolled in my stomach as I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to return it to her.
I still knew nothing about her save for her name and that on top of being popular, beautiful, clever, she was also kind.
And I had all but stolen her jacket.
Almost a fair trade for her stealing my heart.