Blinking past the initial scatter-brained focus on the cans, an open hand was extended toward her. "Right—sorry." Are you alright? That was a pretty nasty spill."
Concern registered instantly across her features as her gaze landed on the spill. Pushing past any hesitation, she dropped to the floor to intercept a few rolling items before they could scatter out of reach—swiftly corralling the rogue groceries back together.
ㅤ
ㅤHer presence announced by the loud crash to the floor.
ㅤHer fall knocking her few groceries out of her hand and onto the floor.
ㅤEyes flicked up and from behind badly dyed pink hair,
ㅤfinding the stranger before her.
ㅤ“ Spit it out. ”
ㅤ
/ those kids grew up hearing that in any emergency they should call the fantastic four only for the fantastic four to ghost them every time they were on the verge of death
ah, sí, sí. i liked that one, too, even though mamí always said luck's just brujería, which makes no sense.
( not that she cares. she actively likes it, actually. )