![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
abc prompts; k+s: genderswap
Admittedly, the trouble with being so busy (swamped, if he's being honest, but it's the way he likes it) is that sometimes things happen without him noticing: scenery changes, new faces, soccer balls.
That last one's a little rough.
Kieran's skirting the soccer field, sure, but the girls are practicing, and they never give him any trouble. The boys might have; his good looks and charm don't exactly play to his advantage with them. But the girls? They roll their eyes, but they smile, too.
Which is why the soccer ball that careens into his knee is such a surprise. He drops his phone, but snatches it out of the air before it gets very far.
A cry of 'I'll get it!' comes faintly from the field as Kieran puts his foot on the soccer ball to bring it closer, then scoops it up. His knee doesn't even hurt, but he puts on a pout for the girl retrieving the ball, anyway.
He's never seen her before, he realizes when she gets close. He'd sure as hell remember if he had. She's tall, bronze-skinned and dark-haired, all exotic almond eyes and legs for miles. She holds a hand out.
"That's mine," she says. "Sorry."
It's a moment before Kieran comes up with a reply (not speechless, never speechless, just — distracted). He shifts the ball to his left hand rather than surrender it.
"Kieran Harper."
This time, the moment is hers: she looks at the ball, then back at his face, and finally relents, dropping her expectant hand. "Shaina Thompson."
"You're new," he remarks, though it's a stab in the dark. Like he'd actually know if the girls' soccer team had a new player?
He gets lucky. "You're literally the first person to say that to me all week," she deadpans. "Thanks for noticing."
"I actually wasn't sure," he admits. "I keep a lot on my plate. You might've been here a month before I noticed, if you hadn't launched a soccer ball into my knee."
"That was Sullivan, actually." She kind of smiles, a wry tilt of her mouth and a flutter of dark lashes as she rolls her eyes to the sky. "She told me not to apologize."
Of course she did. Kieran scoffs. "Glad you're a nicer person than she is."
"Nice and polite aren't the same thing, Harper," she answers. She raises her hand for the ball again. "Can I have my ball back?"
Nice and polite aren't the same thing. Maybe Shaina Thompson is polite, but Kieran isn't. He lofts the ball a little higher, onto his fingertips, and hums a long note.
"Only if you go to coffee with me."
For a second, Shaina's giving him a disbelieving look, and then she's actually smiling, and Kieran feels himself grin in response. He hadn't expected that to be an instant success; he'd been prepared to coax and charm.
Then she says, "You can keep it," and turns to jog off.
Kieran's mouth falls open to the sound of Lacey Sullivan's laughter. He's quick to shut it and shoot a scornful look her way. She couldn't have overheard the conversation from her distance; she's just laughing at his expression.
Turning on his heel, Kieran tucks the ball under his arm and keeps walking. Some of the girls protest and call after him when Shaina breaks the news (Lacey laughs again), but he doesn't stop. Ordinarily, he'd be happy to let one of the girls coerce the ball away from him, but Shaina's presented a challenge.
He'll keep the ball, and when they finally do have coffee together, he'll give it back to her. Fair's fair.
That last one's a little rough.
Kieran's skirting the soccer field, sure, but the girls are practicing, and they never give him any trouble. The boys might have; his good looks and charm don't exactly play to his advantage with them. But the girls? They roll their eyes, but they smile, too.
Which is why the soccer ball that careens into his knee is such a surprise. He drops his phone, but snatches it out of the air before it gets very far.
A cry of 'I'll get it!' comes faintly from the field as Kieran puts his foot on the soccer ball to bring it closer, then scoops it up. His knee doesn't even hurt, but he puts on a pout for the girl retrieving the ball, anyway.
He's never seen her before, he realizes when she gets close. He'd sure as hell remember if he had. She's tall, bronze-skinned and dark-haired, all exotic almond eyes and legs for miles. She holds a hand out.
"That's mine," she says. "Sorry."
It's a moment before Kieran comes up with a reply (not speechless, never speechless, just — distracted). He shifts the ball to his left hand rather than surrender it.
"Kieran Harper."
This time, the moment is hers: she looks at the ball, then back at his face, and finally relents, dropping her expectant hand. "Shaina Thompson."
"You're new," he remarks, though it's a stab in the dark. Like he'd actually know if the girls' soccer team had a new player?
He gets lucky. "You're literally the first person to say that to me all week," she deadpans. "Thanks for noticing."
"I actually wasn't sure," he admits. "I keep a lot on my plate. You might've been here a month before I noticed, if you hadn't launched a soccer ball into my knee."
"That was Sullivan, actually." She kind of smiles, a wry tilt of her mouth and a flutter of dark lashes as she rolls her eyes to the sky. "She told me not to apologize."
Of course she did. Kieran scoffs. "Glad you're a nicer person than she is."
"Nice and polite aren't the same thing, Harper," she answers. She raises her hand for the ball again. "Can I have my ball back?"
Nice and polite aren't the same thing. Maybe Shaina Thompson is polite, but Kieran isn't. He lofts the ball a little higher, onto his fingertips, and hums a long note.
"Only if you go to coffee with me."
For a second, Shaina's giving him a disbelieving look, and then she's actually smiling, and Kieran feels himself grin in response. He hadn't expected that to be an instant success; he'd been prepared to coax and charm.
Then she says, "You can keep it," and turns to jog off.
Kieran's mouth falls open to the sound of Lacey Sullivan's laughter. He's quick to shut it and shoot a scornful look her way. She couldn't have overheard the conversation from her distance; she's just laughing at his expression.
Turning on his heel, Kieran tucks the ball under his arm and keeps walking. Some of the girls protest and call after him when Shaina breaks the news (Lacey laughs again), but he doesn't stop. Ordinarily, he'd be happy to let one of the girls coerce the ball away from him, but Shaina's presented a challenge.
He'll keep the ball, and when they finally do have coffee together, he'll give it back to her. Fair's fair.