reposting the greentext because it was at the ass end of last thread
>Some fifteen feet below, fingers were drumming on a table. Some fifteen feet below, a high heel was tapping the hardwood floor.
>She couldn't hear them. She couldn't see them. But she knew it was happening, because they were her fingers and feet.
>Restlessly, she scanned the streets around the fancy riverside restaurant again from her vantage point. Her prize was nowhere to be seen. Her neck slowly traveled down to other-people height, a look of concern on her face.
>It's been fifteen minutes, and still no Damien. He didn't... forget, did he?
>That look of concern slowly turned to a frown. Playing with the tip of her fork, she couldn't help but think back on things.
>Dating him's been hard. If it can even be called that. He just always seems so absent minded.
>She was convinced that he remembered her during the End of Summer festival, but... he told her that it was Inco who brought those burritos when she thanked him.
>It just - it feels like she's an afterthought sometimes. Like he doesn't even consider her. Like, in the arcade-
>Her line of thought is interrupted by the waiter returning. Her eyebrows lifting and frown turning into a look of surprise, then a forced smile.
Just a water, please. Yes, he'll be here soon!
>Her expression darkened again soon. Yep. He'll be here soon. He's gotta be here soon...
>A sigh escaped her lips as she glanced down at her fancy dress. He wouldn't stand her up on her birthday...
>...Right?
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