Go down and check the cyclist is ok
From Create Your Own Story
"Jesus—sorry!" you shout, already sprinting down the steep embankment before the words fully leave your mouth. The cyclist is sprawled in the grass, limbs tangled with his bike like a discarded marionette.
By the time you reach him, you're breathless with guilt. "I'm so sorry," you repeat, watching as he peels himself off the ground with a grimace. Grass stains streak his black cycling shorts as he brushes debris from his elbows.
"You okay?" you ask, hovering awkwardly at the base of the hill.
The man straightens with a wince. "Yeah. Think so." His voice carries an edge as he retrieves his helmet and lifts the bike. The rear wheel spins lazily, its tire gaping with a vicious puncture. "Bike's fucked, though. Must've hit a rock when I wiped out."
Your stomach twists. "Shit—that's completely my fault. Can I help? Anything?"
"Got a repair kit handy?" His sarcasm lands like a slap. Then he turns—properly looks at you for the first time—and suddenly you're staring into warm umber eyes beneath messy black hair. Late twenties, maybe, with the lean musculature of a serious cyclist. His irritation softens slightly when he sees your genuine distress.
"I do, actually." The words tumble out too fast. "Back at my place. Five minutes from here."
A beat passes. Then he exhales sharply through his nose. "Fine." He hefts the bike with practiced ease.
As you help navigate the damaged bicycle back to the path, introductions come in stilted bursts between apologies. His name is Krish. Yours is Jake. The walk to your garage stretches awkward and endless, the silence broken only by the rhythmic click-click of the ruined wheel.
You both walk to your place.
Once you get home
Do you
