Luc1ar
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The man was at a loss for words for a few seconds, processing what just happened to him. His face slightly reddened by the mere shame he felt being caught in such a situation in broad daylight, with dozens of eyes on them, nonetheless.
“It just hit me by an inch, I will be alright,” he quickly muttered, his hand moving to subtly cover his face. You frowned, “Well, at least do tell who I owe my deepest apologies to.”
He hesitated, he seemed like a reserved man, as well as lugubrious which caused you to feel twice as bad for possibly making his day worse.
“Franz Kafka, although do just call me Franz,”