You Think She Wants Your Foot, But She Refuses to Give In

The door handle turns and begins to open. You straighten up your posture, ready for your guest. But, the door stops midway open, and you hear a sigh from behind the door. Then it swings open, and you the girl walks in. Before you caught her off guard, but now she walks erect and composed. Her waist length hair stretches straight down her back. When she sees you, her eyes first hold on the sock. So she’s into sweaty clothes? then they drift down to your feet, and for a moment her rigid posture breaks into a small shake. Her head shoots back up, though coincidentally she adopts a posture that has her looking at the ceiling.

“Good evening, Mr.Blackmailer.” she says, with the stiffness of a corpse.

“I prefer sir Blackmailer.” You try to defuse the tension a bit. “Also you can relax, I’m not going to **** you.” Damn. So long as she’s deliberately keeping her gaze off you, you can’t confirm that what she’s interested in is feet. You lower your foot and place the sock next to you.

“You...you aren’t?” she glances down in confusion, her posture laxing. But, the millisecond you notice she stiffens back up. You thought you saw her looking at your foot again. When she lowered her glance, you can’t help but notice it was to your feet.

“Nope, I’m giving it back to you.” You toss the backpack on the ground between you. “I just wanted to talk. I’m curious what an innocent flower such as yourself is doing carrying around a backpack of stolen used socks.”

She scrambles on to the backpack, and in moments has it secured around her back. She even does up the little strap around her waist. The fact that the backpack was clearly meant for children makes her look ridiculous, especially juxtaposed against her composed dignified posture.

“I didn’t steal anything…” her voice trails…

“Then how exactly did you end up with all of these socks?” Your eyebrows raise.