Ines wasn’t good at sports. Or, really, anything that required any kind of basic hand-eye coordination. Upon being informed that she was supposed to be maneuvering a canoe with someone else (she had no idea who) instant nerves swarmed her stomach. She stood on the shore of the lake now, paddle awkwardly in hand, eyeing the canoe with suspicion. The rest of her team was on the water already as she fidgeted and waited in silence for her partner, letting the splashes and giggles of her teammates act as a bit of distraction from her anxiety. After waiting a solid ten minutes for her supposed partner to arrive, she heard footsteps approach, and her nervousness manifested itself in rushed words. “Thank God you’re finally here. Do you know how to steer a canoe? Because I definitely don’t. And that water looks scary. Are there flesh eating fish in Maine? Because I saw a National Geographic spe--” Turning to face the partner in question, the sight of the man in front of her promptly stunned her into an embarrassed silence. “Oh. Hi. Cute white bo-- fuck. That is not your name. Sorry, sorry. I’m Ines. Hi.” @felixlcsser​
