But there ain’t a laguage for the things i feel
It takes his turning around for her to realize that she hadn’t been able to pull his face into sharper focus because he hadn’t been looking at her at all. Still, she can only make out the shapes, the fuzzy outline of his head when he finally turns to face her. She blinks rapidly, though she knows it will do nothing to improve her version.
He says it’s all right, though she knows that it’s not and the polite thing to do would be to quietly take her leave. But he goes on talking to her and the only thing that placates her is the teasing tone with which he addresses her. She blinks her pale-glowing eyes as her embarrassment pools heat and color in her cheeks.
She shakes her head slow, unable to see his smile and thus unable to be soothed by it. “No,” she admits without pretense. There’s no sense in trying to hide it, she thinks, no sense in lying about it or trying to play it off. And she thinks, too, that maybe he’ll be more likely to fully forgive her if she explains herself.
“I don’t see very good during the daytime,” she continues, averting her gaze to the ground underfoot. Although she can’t see that either. “I could see you just fine if it were night. It’s just the sun that makes it hard, I think.” She gives a self-conscious little shrug then, the corners of her mouth pulled down in a frown.