Forget I Said Anything (solo)

6:05 AM.

Slate readjusted his tie. It was teal: he had bought it a few weeks back, in preparation. It was her favorite color.

...But was it, perhaps, a bit too formal? He scrutinized his reflection. The suit was necessary, of course—what else was there to wear? His school clothes? His pajamas? The suit had been an easy matter to decide. From there, the tie had seemed natural, in his mind. Now that he saw it in place, however...

7:03 AM.

Yes, the scarf was definitely better: its warm gray length provided just the right balance of informality. Also, it felt very comforting around his neck: very familiar. He set the tie to the side for the last time, resolutely.

...Or was it too informal?

7:27 AM

It had taken longer than anticipated to get ready. However, he was still confident of catching Katrina before class. So long as he maintained a steady pace down the corridor. While this was not an ideal moment for the question he had in mind, there did not seem to ever be an ideal moment. He simply had to—what was the phrase?—"man up."

She was outside of her bedroom, a book under her arm, shutting the door carefully down to the narrow crack she always left it at. Good. That meant he did not have to knock. Knocking... knocking sometimes did not happen. He had tried that last week; he had put on his suit and stood outside of her door with his hand raised.

Today, that barrier had clearly been lifted. It was meant to be. It was going to happen. Today. This morning. Now. He would ask her.

Slate hurried his step until he was along side of her, smoothing down his teal tie as he went. He was not sure what greeting he offered her, or what she returned; his heart was beating too loudly in his ears to hear. He slipped a hand into his pocket, his fingers settling lightly over the ring box.

"Katrina," He started, drawing in a deep breath, "We need more toothpaste. Will you—"

...Wait, what?

His retreat was so swift, he did not later recall how he made it.