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intelligo
(understand)
「dear stranger.」
tuesday.
—9:07 pm—
[xxx-xxx-xxxx]
Um
Hi!
I'm that girl from the window?
She bites her thumbnail, a habit that she's picked up from her time in the moonlit space between revolutions around the sun, an alleyway tucked away behind her mother's back. as silly as it sounds, her fate hangs in the balance of a few words, as precarious as the paper stars a six-year old cut out and renamed as art.
[y/n] stares down at her phone screen with a tiny seed of doubt that perhaps, she shouldn't have sent out that little string of texts.
what if he gave her a random number, and this was some random creep? but what if they thought that she was some random creep? what sort of person just goes 'oh hey i'm that girl from the window from a couple of days ago and i just got up the courage that's quickly leaving me as i type to text you pls respond'?
fuck.
the more she thinks about it, the more she wishes she has some sort of magical, terribly convenient, time-portal to allow her to go back in time to around ten minutes ago, before she had made this life-ruining blunder. how she wishes she can swallow her words, grab them from the universe and make them disappear!
