You Can Have Them... I Guess.... (Jin-hwan)
Dec 12, 2014 0:48:22 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Dec 12, 2014 0:48:22 GMT -5
Xun had come to the terrible realization only ten minutes earlier that he'd eaten the final crumbs of his last bag of shrimp chips. Being the obsessive muncher he was, he couldn't stand the thought of not having a convenient bag to grab the next time he got hungry (which would likely be later that evening). So he tugged on his feiyues and sped off to the local Asian market, putting his ability to good use and managing not to trip or crash into anyone on the way there.
He was panting lightly as he stepped inside, nodding to one of the cashiers that he knew. "Ni hao," he greeted, bee-lining towards the snack isle. Xun came here so often that many of the employees knew him by name. Which was really saying something, considering the introverted martial artist didn't talk much to people he didn't know.
When he reached the shelves where the chip bags were usually at, his heart sank to see that there was only one of his precious shrimp-flavored ones left. Completely focused on the task at hand, Xun didn't realize the other person in the aisle began reaching for the bag at the same time he was; he reached it first, but startled at the sudden hand appearing next to his, and managed to fumble and promptly drop the snack on the stranger's foot.
"... U-uh," he stammered. Xun's cheeks were already pink from racing through the cold (as well as his hair ruffled into a fuzzy mess and his casual workout gear damp and mis-matched), but they darkened even more as he realized his predicament. "D-duì bu qǐ.... I'm sorry." Why did these sort of things always happen to him?
He was panting lightly as he stepped inside, nodding to one of the cashiers that he knew. "Ni hao," he greeted, bee-lining towards the snack isle. Xun came here so often that many of the employees knew him by name. Which was really saying something, considering the introverted martial artist didn't talk much to people he didn't know.
When he reached the shelves where the chip bags were usually at, his heart sank to see that there was only one of his precious shrimp-flavored ones left. Completely focused on the task at hand, Xun didn't realize the other person in the aisle began reaching for the bag at the same time he was; he reached it first, but startled at the sudden hand appearing next to his, and managed to fumble and promptly drop the snack on the stranger's foot.
"... U-uh," he stammered. Xun's cheeks were already pink from racing through the cold (as well as his hair ruffled into a fuzzy mess and his casual workout gear damp and mis-matched), but they darkened even more as he realized his predicament. "D-duì bu qǐ.... I'm sorry." Why did these sort of things always happen to him?
