texting » styles

prince

"i don't want to sound astounded, but i wasn't expecting you like.. this." He gestured to her figure. "What, can a girl not be black?" She snapped unattentionly, feeling her thumbnail dig into her porselain skin. "I didn't mean it like that, Ava, you know that."

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Ava sat exactly 1.6 feet away from him when he touched her hand. After he realised she was the girl he texted, and she realised he had a preference for white girls, they both agreed to get some coffee at the bar around the corner, called 'smoked cigarettes'. He felt her gaze on him, he could not look at her. Their knees were almost touching, she could feel the warmth from his body. "I did not mean it." He whispered. Her lips curled and after clearing her throat, she spoke -too loudly-, "It's fine, I'm used to it, don't you worry." Her fake smile worked on him, as she saw him clearly relaxing his shoulders, inching closer. "So, Ava, are you okay?" 

No, she thought, no I am not okay. You looked at me and I could see the regret in your eyes, the judgment. You held my hand for a second, but when someone looked at you with an uneasy gaze, you quickly jerked your hand away from mine. When someone told you 'nice one bro', i saw you look at my ass and smiling. When I told you I was interested in feminism, and particularly intersectional feminism, you did not even ask what that meant. The only reaction I got from you was a shrug and then you completely ignored it. 

"Yes, it's so crazy, I didn't really picture you as well, but it's nice that we finally meet."