He turned his head towards her, the slight ticks of the sewing needles rhythmically matching the bumps on the bus ride. The words weren't coming to him and he was at a loss to the feelings he felt. The overwhelming need to let her know his inner thoughts, and the rising temperature around him.
With lips trembling, sweat trickling down his brow and the quiver of his hands all coming to this point. Slowly, in an almost inaudible whisper,
He turned his head towards her, the slight ticks of the sewing needles rhythmically matching the bumps on the bus ride. The words weren't coming to him and he was at a loss to the feelings he felt. The overwhelming need to let her know his inner thoughts, and the rising temperature around him.
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"Miss, you farted."