Fitz didn't make much of a sound on the collision. Taller, deeper-chested, and more solid than the other figure, it only rocked his weight a little to his heels. But the instinct to help was more immediate even than the recognition, and he was crouching and reaching for produce, mumbling, "Sorry, sorry," before even lifting his eyes to the other man's face. His throat and cheeks burned with a shamed flush that only gently ruddied his darker skin.
"I didn't-- I'm sorry," He interrupted himself awkwardly with another apology, offering up what his hands had swiftly saved from the feet of passers-by--
and then froze. Not just the stillness of a startled deer, or a surprised man. It rushed over him like a deep winter's frost, penetrating the waters of a still lake right to its sandy bed. He didn't breathe, didn't twitch a muscle, and a thin ring of white circled his dark irises. His craggy, once-handsome features were trapped in a moment of warring joy and agony; and he was not first, to break the silence he'd made.
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"I didn't-- I'm sorry," He interrupted himself awkwardly with another apology, offering up what his hands had swiftly saved from the feet of passers-by--
and then froze. Not just the stillness of a startled deer, or a surprised man. It rushed over him like a deep winter's frost, penetrating the waters of a still lake right to its sandy bed. He didn't breathe, didn't twitch a muscle, and a thin ring of white circled his dark irises. His craggy, once-handsome features were trapped in a moment of warring joy and agony; and he was not first, to break the silence he'd made.