C32 Thirty Two

One swift glance takes in my rumpled sweats, unbrushed hair, and bare feet. Even though I tell myself I have nothing to be embarrassed about, that isn’t enough to stop the dull heat I can feel sweeping over my cheeks and down my neck.

His expression doesn’t change, but I feel the judgment all the same. So much so that I can almost hear his voice in my head: This is not you keeping up appearances