chance, or don't.

-where are you going?- she asked softly, her voice had this subtle québécois accent that poured out velvety and slightly disjointed. -somewhere far, somewhere warmer- that was true, hopefully, he wasn't much sure where he was going, he also didn't want to tell her that. -do you have room for one more, warm sounds nice- smiling, her green eyes glistened as they squinted, the corners of her mouth twisted shyly as dimples formed on her cheeks. she had warm skin, despite the cold, her dark hair was a beautiful mess from the toque that had pressed against and jostled it. -I'm not sure you could deal with me- that was true, he wasn't sure she could, he was partly sure he could deal with her. that was new, it made him nervous. -I'm not sure that's for you to decide- she started to walk away then and looking over her shoulder -tell me when I should be ready-
staring as she walked away he thought of chasing after her, then thought better of it. he wouldn't tell her anything, that would mean taking a chance. he would just leave, like he always did, then, once he was far enough to never turn around, he would wonder why. because, well, running was easier.