Sage iced John's cheek as he explained what happened in an angry tone, "I didn't even do anything!" He complained. He sucked in air through his teeth as Sage applied pressure to the cut on his cheek bone, "Well then...Hopefully once you heal up a bit, you can grab something to eat, actually," Sage got up and went to her fridge, grabbing a container and putting it into the microwave above her stove. "I hope you don't mind leftovers, you haven't eaten anything all day I'm assuming?" She asked, looking over to where John was.
John was on the couch, the ice pack was melting on his face as he kept it there, lost in thought. 'The flowers' he thought looking up to Sage's carnations. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sage looking at him. He wasn't sure what she'd ask him, she understood that based off of his clueless expression. "Have you eaten?" She asked again, the microwave beeped two times before she took out the steaming hot container. John shook his head, realizing only now how hungry he actually was. "Are you allergic to anything in spaghetti?" She asked as she plated it with a fork, John shrugged, "If there's any shrimp then I can't have it." Sage nodded, "Luckily I hate seafood so you're good, enjoy." She pushed the plate towards John, who picked up the fork with his left hand as the other held the melting ice pack in place. He lapped up all of the spaghetti, not wasting a second of his time. The plate was licked clean, John thanked Sage and washed his plate. "John, I have a question for you," Sage began, John nodded for her to continue, "Well, I know that you said you were from here when I asked, but, where did you grow up?" John dried his hands on his lap, "I grew up on a farm in Ohio." Sage tilted her head, "I didn't think you were one to live in Ohio never less a farm. I don't know what I was expecting to be completely honest." She laughed, "You're a little country boy huh?" John laughed out loud, Sage joined in soon.
Then, John had an idea, "Sage, are you any good at writing?" he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes. Sage shrugged, "I haven't written anything since high school." John didn't care, he pulled Sage out of her apartment and into his, limping ever so slightly. "Here," He said, opening up his computer, pulling up the essay, and showing her its prompt. "Woah, well in my opinion I would introduce the essay by defining what the word regret means, and how it affect's everyone else on a day-to-day basis. Then I would narrow it down to how it affects me." Sage said, after thinking for a small moment. John mentally face-palmed, "I have no idea why I've never thought of that, it outlines the theme of the essay and displays its boundaries without having to explicitly say that!" He hugged her in pure happiness. She giggled, a light blush on her face, and watched as he typed away on his desk. After ten or so minutes he sat back and laughed triumphantly, Sage walked over and read what John had written, she nodded and pat him on the back. "You're really good at this." She beamed at him.
Draft 1:
The feeling of regret, one would describe regret as something one should have done in a certain situation, but not realizing it until after the situations consequences have played out. From taking a wrong exit on a highway to choosing the wrong option in a life or death situation. Regret will be there to make you judge yourself based on your past choices, making you wonder if what you chose was truly the right option, or the easiest option. I believe that regret is a part of each and every one of us and helps us grow as human beings.