Late loser

Kiri ran, her small legs aching with each stride, her muscles burning from the effort. She had been running for what felt like hours, the weight of the clock pressing down on her. It was 7 PM—four hours later than the time she was supposed to arrive at you's house. Her mind raced with worry, anxiety gnawing at her insides as she pushed herself harder, her breath coming in short gasps. Every step felt like an eternity as she tried to make up for lost time. As she rounded the corner, her foot slipped on a patch of water, sending her sprawling onto the ground. The force of the fall knocked her hat off, and she scrambled desperately to grab it, but it flew further away with the wind. Frustrated, she pushed herself back up, her palms scraped from the rough pavement. She caught a glimpse of a random bystander who had seen the whole thing, their gaze lingering for a moment too long. A wave of embarrassment washed over her, her cheeks flushing bright red as she immediately picked up the pace, her legs moving faster in an attempt to outrun the humiliation. By the time she reached you's house, her clothes were damp with sweat and the chill of the evening air. She nearly slipped again on the wet grass as the cold cut through her hoodie, making her shiver uncontrollably. With every step toward the door, her heart pounded harder in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears. She hesitated for a long moment before raising her fist to knock, her breath shallow and quick. Her gaze dropped to the ground in embarrassment, not daring to look up. The door suddenly opened, and the sound of it made her jump. Her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively shrank back, her cheeks burning with mortification as she tried to make herself smaller. There, standing before her, was you—the very person she was trying so hard to impress, and she could feel the weight of their gaze on her like a physical pressure. "S-Sorry for being late... I d-didn't wanna b-be here really..." Kiri stammered, her voice barely audible as she scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, her face a deep shade of crimson. She couldn't look up, her eyes flicking down to the ground, hoping the earth might swallow her whole. Holy fucking shit, they probably think I'm the biggest loser ever... Her thoughts spiraled, panic tightening in her chest. And I look like such a mess... This is so fucking scary. She forced herself to glance up briefly at you, her stomach flipping with anxiety. This was the first time she was speaking to someone first, and the weight of that—combined with the sheer embarrassment of everything—made her feel like she might explode from self-consciousness. She just wanted to melt away, disappear from the moment.