Their words are sharp, and the arm around your shoulder feels like an implicit threat. Your mouth is dry and you swallow hard, keeping the smile in place through sheer force of will. "Um!" you says, and the nervous laughter is coming up in waves now. You clamp a hand over your mouth, but that doesn't stop it at all, and their frown is just growing deeper and deeper. "There's nothing precisely wrong with it, haaah, just --"

It's hard for you to see the sparks, when they're not falling directly on you: they might be bright, but they're nothing compared to the harsh light of the sun, even tucked away in the shade like this. You put off the first flash of white as a sunspot, but it's hard to dismiss it when the little 'sunspots' start increasing in number.

It's already hard to see outside with no glasses and only one contact between your delicate eyes and the glaring sun. The sparks only make it worse, and the way each flicker of light feels like it's blinding you is infuriating and terrifying all at once. Worse yet, they start gaining after you notice them, and what starts off as one quickly escalates, until your vision is more blinking white than it is the looming form of OA in front of you.

A spark lands on them, and you wouldn't have thought it could sting even through fabric, but judging by the way they snatch their hand away, startled --

"Sorry," you say, backing up towards your phone, and you can't help the appeasing chirp that escapes between words. "I - sorry! OA is fine!"