[@KatherinWinter][@Vampy][@Blueflame][@Arya10108909]
A very long minute passed, Cecilia huddling in her seat as her mind raced. Someone had to start the story soon, and she reasoned she might as well be her. Once her turn is out of the way, she needn't necessarily worry about being called on out of the blue later. "Um..." she spoke up while raising her hand a little to get some attention. She wasn't a born storyteller, especially in regards to a story made up on the fly. But there was something about being the center of attention and not being sure what to say that terrified her into getting the job done quickly. "Th-There once was a... [i]wandering[/i] minstrel who played his mandolin(?) at every town and village he visited. One cloudy day however, he came across a..." She stopped there, assuming that that was where someone else had to step in with the next part of the story. It may have been more expedient to choose the next participant herself, but instead she ended with: "Um does anyone else want to go next?

[@LiegeLord]
With the figurative ball passed on to the others, Cecilia knew she couldn't wait any longer, so she got out of her seat. While walking tentatively back to James, she slowly began to notice a measure of his grieved demeanor. Her heart sank seeing him like this, feeling like she had caused this. She had said she wanted to be someone he could count on, and instead she ran away from him and her feelings. From where she stood, it looked like all in all, he really would be better off without her. "James?" she spoke up meekly, a regretful look on her face. "I'm... s-sorry for earlier. I guess I've made a mess of things again... I-If you rather I leave you alone, I'll understand..." Hearing herself say those words hurt in a poignant way, unsure what James would say in response, but determined to listen and follow at any rate.