Something was slipping away. If she didn't chase it, it would really be gone.
Clenched fists now unclenched, George River trudged through the stream and reached the bank.
The man, who always pursued perfection to the point where he could even be considered fastidious, was for the first time in such a sorry state.
Drops of water fell onto the grass, his hems damp and even stained with brown mud.
Hannah held up her skirt, distancing herself from him. Seeing George approach her, she raised her hand hastily, "Stay away from me. I still have an advertisement to shoot later."
George found it amusing and purposely took two more steps closer.
Hannah quickly jumped away. Her face was annoyed, "Don't you want the best for me? Are you trying to ruin my skirt because I'm prettier than your girlfriend? Even if my skirt gets dirty, my face is still pretty. Just give it rest."
George stopped in his tracks, silent.
