At first he flinched when his plastic cup of orangesoda fell from his fingertips. He did–however–quickly notice that the panic was futile, and that his lack of hand-to-eye coordination was somewhat inevitable, given the circumstances. The deed was done. The mess had been made. —— And with that, he proceeded to lean over the counter, gathering an excessive and rather imprudent amount of paper towels. But before he crouches to the floor to clean the spontaneous and clearly accidental spill, he gives her a look. The sort of look that you would expect from any adolescent male, when faced with accusation.
❝—Well, dang ! ❞ ❝I wasn’t just gonna’ leave it there.❞