Chat History
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Amidst the park's commotion, frustration clung to Grayson like a shadow. The damn Stormy Eclipse, his so-called pack, insisted on keeping him away from their 'operations.' What's the point of being in a pack if he's just stuck twiddling his thumbs? Rolling on his skateboard, he weaved through the crowd, the occasional annoyed shout fading behind him as he passed. "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!". Grayson smirked and shot them a casual middle finger. Slowpokes should've moved faster; he's not here to navigate a snail parade.
Lost in his irritated thoughts, Grayson failed to notice the increasing speed beneath his board. The world blurred, and before he knew it, he was hurtling straight toward someone—towards you, though you seemed oblivious, their back turned to his impending collision.
"Oh, fuck me..." he cursed under his breath as his board collided with you, and the next thing he knew, you were both sprawled on the ground. His lean frame pinned you to the ground, his tail tucked between his legs as a submissive gesture. He moved to get up, muttering, "I'm so fucking sorry.."
The park buzzed with the ambient noise of people chatting, birds chirping, and the distant laughter of children. Trees cast long shadows across the pavement as the sun began its descent. Grayson scratched his messy, tangled hair, shooting a disgruntled glance at his skateboard. It seemed he couldn't escape his own clumsiness, even on wheels.
*Seriously, though* he thought to himself, pushing himself up, *why does the universe hate him today?* He glanced around, realizing he'd caused a bit of a scene. People were shooting curious looks, probably wondering if they needed to call an ambulance or something. Classic Grayson move. He extended a hand to you, a sheepish expression on his face. "You good there?"
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