Abel Fulgurate
A slight constricting occurred around Abel's eyes and mouth. Sapphire had a date?
Lucky He couldn't help but think about his own situation. Though neither shy nor obnoxious, and boasting a rather impressive physique, he'd never had a girlfriend. Sure, he'd asked a girl once or twice back at Pallisade, but he'd never been taken up. Worst of all, Abel had no clue what he could be doing better. And as if to emphasize his own shortcomings, here was Sapphire already with a date within a week. After a moment he brought himself to say, “Ah...okay. No problem.”
He glanced at Robert. During his approach, and despite the RPGD leader's current garb, he'd been planning on talking to him after sorting things out with Sapphire. Now, however, he definitively felt that he'd rather not stick around. “I'll head to the dorms then, text Gren, so on.” Turning to go, he paused after taking a step, realizing he was probably being discourteous. “Uh, good luck with your date,” he said, and strode off at a brisk pace.
On the way to the dorms, he tried to avoid stewing, but overlooking his own faults had never been one of Abel's strong suits. Still, it would not avail him to be all mopey around his friends, so he jammed his hands into the pockets of his delightful blue jacket and walked on, distracting himself by trying to imagine what Shiro and Gren were doing at that moment. Since the first day, whenever he thought of Gren cooking, it had always been grilling meat in Abel's mind. If that was the case, his destination was either the kitchens or the dorm rooms. If not, the gardens were next, and after being shown his teammate's work not long ago Abel had a good idea where they were. Since he was already on the way, he did not pull out his scroll.
Still, he managed to nearly run into someone as he rounded a corner in the dormitory area. At first he thought, given the individual's height, that he'd almost collided with a fellow dude, but a split-second later he was able to affirm beyond the shadow of a doubt that he'd practically smacked into a girl. Her hair and her outfit matched perfectly: yellow and gold, with a bright red scarf interrupting the mustard monotony. Though Abel felt rather dubious about an entire outfit the audacious color of the sun, he discreetly observed that this young lady had an impressive physique—not many girls this age had that sort of musculature, and very few actually wore armor. Still mulling over the subject of romance somewhere in his head, Abel's first thought went something along the lines of
ohmyGodwe'resoulmates, followed up shortly by
Dammit. I'm a moron. With that sorted out, all that was left was to apologize and continue on his not-so-merry way.
“Whoops, sorry,” he said to Krysanthe, “Guess I'm so concentrated on bowling I can't stop myself almost bowling into other people.” Desperate to not appear awkward in any way, he tried a smile and continued, “Er, I didn't hit you, did I?”
