She looked at him with baby-doll eyes. The lift of her face coy, lips slightly pouted. Her pale face accented by light eyebrows and framed by straw hair.

She was apologizing, again. How could a woman so tall act so coy? He thought to himself.

She was about his height, maybe half an inch taller. She continued to pout, waiting for him to forgive her.

“No need to apologize, it wasn’t your fault.” He said truthfully, Why does she apologize for this? Why not apologize for what really matters? Or hell, just stop doing it?