“Are you a regalia or something…?” The question slipped out before he could catch himself, and he searched her pale flesh curiously for a name.
The adolescent, perhaps realizing that he should help her, hurried to pick up the fallen produce with the hopes that nothing was too bruised from the fall, “Sorry. That’s a strange question.”
And once more with the abrupt questions that, in the end, seemed out of place for such a mundane setting. Crouched on a mostly empty street helping a young adolescent boy pick up groceries was nothing out of the ordinary, after all. But still her interest was helplessly peaked at the word regalia.
Cradling an armful of groceries that had fallen to the ground the blonde sat back on her heels momentarily, gazing at the boy with curiosity alight in her eyes. ”What’s a regalia?” Words that were expected, though she hoped she was not prying too far.
