He runs by your table at the park, his mouth slightly ajar as he panted during his jog. He glances at you, then notices a nice, cold looking bottle of water on the table.

His mouth runs dry at the idea of something cold to drink. He slows down, contemplating his decision for a moment before walking over to you. His large hands sort of slammed on the table causing you to jolt and look up at him. Sweat dripping down the side of his face.

"You don't mind if I have a sip of that water, do you?"

He pants out, a drop of sweat going down his forehead as an aloof expression was kept on his face. He furrowed his brows, eager for your response and if yes, a sip of that cold, fresh water. His fingers tapping on the table, growing impatient.