"Don't call me an idiot!"
The words came out of her mouth in an offended tone before she had even realized what had happened, much less who had said them.
Meredith Fielding had been out for a calming walk downtown. A nice walk, an escape from the depressing atmosphere of home and the friends who still, months later, had not stopped asking if she was okay every five minutes. Didn't they know how ungodly sick she got of that? Didn't they all know how much better things would be if she didn't have to be constantly reminded that there was something that she should be not feeling okay about? She knew, alright. When you felt--knew you would feel for the rest of your life--that half of you was missing, it was pretty fucking abundantly clear that there was something not okay. So---a walk. Barely having escaped the house before her mother started weeping over the photos on the mantle again, she was out for a walk.
Which did not fucking include being thrown to the god damn ground by some dickhead stranger!
"The signal was still red!"
Oh.
The agitation washed off her face as Meredith glanced at the car speeding off. Merlin, had she really almost just done that? It was ironic that now, after the fact, her heart had begun to pound with the adreneline of the close call with---well, with something she didn't really need to think about.
"Sorry---thank you," she muttered, finally tearing her eyes off the road and towards the man who'd saved her. "I guess I---oh."
Wasn't that just her luck.
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