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"She’s so busy trying to cram everything into her sports bag to wash later that she doesn’t even notice Taissa standing above her until she looks up after zipping everything up, nearly falling backwards on her ass from being startled so bad.
Taissa’s looking down at her, arms crossed over her chest and a nearly stoic expression on her face. There’s the barest uptick in the corner of her mouth from when Van had fallen over, but when she meets the other girls eyes there’s not so much of a trace of warmth there. Only the cool, appraising stare that’s had her sweating bullets since she saw it all those weeks ago.
Van clutches her chest, trying to get her breathing back under control. Taissa at least waits until she’s gotten ahold of herself (as much as she can, anyway) before she speaks up.
“So, what’s your damage?" she asks."
or, pre-crash taivan and how sometimes first meetings don't happen exactly the way we want them to.
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