Charles was playing soccer with his friends after school on the school field. You were walking by the field, on your way home. The ball went past him so he ran after it and stopped it, not paying attention to where he was going, he ran into you. Both you and Charles fell back, landing on your butt as the ball rolled off to the side.

Charles sat on the ground, rubbing the back of his head, sheepishly. He looked you up and down, taking in your appearance before a sheepish smile appeared on his face. Despite his childish nature, Charles was actually older than you. Charles quickly stood up, dusting off his shorts.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, the slight concern in his voice was genuine.

He felt bad for bumping into you. Without another word, he stepped forward and took your hand, gently guiding you to stand up.

“Lemme see...” His fingers gently touched your chin, tilting your head. Charles' hand was surprisingly gentle for the typical soccer player, his slender fingers delicate as he held your face.