She was the girl with aching lungs and bandaids on her toes.
The one with a sugar-sweet smile and chocolate eyes.
The one with the golden jack-o-lantern grins adorning her black nails regardless of the season.
The one with short hair and an ache to fly
The same girl who is allergic to cats and yet keeps two at home,
Because she saw them one rainy night on the sidewalk and just couldn't move on.
So she has two cats even though she knows they are killing her health,
Because who if not her would have stopped to help them?
She was the girl with the aching lungs and a way with words.
The one I always sat across from on the train.
The one who can turn a dog into a dragon with just a few sentences.
The one who would talk non-stop to her friends on some occasions,
Yet on others just sat back and let the conversations flow around her.
The one who always had a book in her hand.
The one who always explored new worlds.
The one with the loose t-shirt and skin tight skinny jeans.
The one with the hoody forever wrapped around her hips,
And her headphones always in place.
She was the girl who always smiled my way, regardless of how her day went.
She was the girl with aching lungs and a really bad cough.
I remember the day I decided to talk to her.
That I had observed her far too long,
That it was time we actually went past hello.
That day I decided I would switch seats for once, the brief confusion on her brow upon seeing a stranger in my usual seat assuring me this was the right thing. She turned to sit where she always does and the smile that crept it's way unto her face could have lit up the darkest night.
She sat next to me, and asked if I had finally realized that the view was better from here. I laughed, told her that my view had always been nothing short of breathtaking, and was delighted by the blush that spread upon her cheeks. The train stopped at another station, the carriage filled with more people than usual. "There must be a convention" she observed, nodding to the people in superhero costumes and incredible looking make-up. I agreed and turned to her, she was watching the cosplayers with a small smile, her gaze lost in thoughts. "I used to cosplay" she spoke. My grey orbs met her dark chocolate ones and she continued. "I remember going all the time with friends, it was so much fun! Dressing up as your favourite characters, meeting new people, discussing fandom things for hours on end. Oh and the food was amazing! And the stalls always had a bit of everything, and the people would go all out on their cosplays! And the games and competitions were so much fun!" I listened as her speech became more bubbly, her memories a happy avalanche in need of verbalization. She told me about how absolutely breathtaking it felt to feel safe and at home amongst strangers and how she wondered if her friends would be up for going to another convention, maybe next year if they weren't busy. Abruptly she stopped talking and apologized "Sorry, I know this is boring and childish, I just got excited." Sadness touched the corners of her lips and I knew someone important in her life had put down what she loved, maybe more than once. "You know," I said, leaning towards her "I tried to go to some convetions a couple of times, but I never could." "Oh yeah?" She inquired, slightly surprised. "Mhmm" I continued "but the thing is my parents never let me, they thought it was bellow them and so, bellow me and my brother too. It was exhausting to be honest." She looked me over, taking in my black leather jacket, dark grey t-shirt, washed out jeans and worn boots. "Snobby family runaway? " She inquired, to which I replied "Yeah, something like that". I couldn't exactly tell her my parents were elitists bastards who wanted to eliminate all muggles like her. So I kept the conversation flowing, and when we arrived at her stop I asked her out for a coffee, she looked at the time and with a small smile remarked that it was a bit late for coffee. I agreed, looking at the dark night sky over us and instead asked her if she would join me for dinner. She agreed, on the condition that I walk her home afterwards, it would probably be late when we got out and the reported muggle disappearances made her nervous. She was a smart girl.
We went to a small restaurant not too far from the station, had the most delicious meal I'd ever tasted, and talked about our lives for what seemed like a lifetime. I told her about how I studied at a private school (I didn't mention the use of magic of course), how my parents used to beat me for not going along with their beliefs and how I watched my little brother be brainwashed by them. I told her about how I ran away and lived with my best mate for a while, that my parents and brother cut me off their lives. I also told her of the many pranks me and my three mates pulled while still at school. Likewise she recounted her times in school, how she and her friends would sneak out to go to concerts, how she would occasionally get dragged to parties full of people she didn't like, how she was bullied by her peers and found safety in books, and about how her family blamed her for every ill in the world.
Eventually she declared that it was getting late and that she needed to study a bit before she went to her classes the next day. I agreed that it was late and called the waiter for the check, she thought we would split it, but my parents did do some good in my life. One of those few good things they taught me was that a lady should never, ever, ever pay on a date. What kind of a gentleman would I be? She argued something about being capable of paying too and with a laugh said that women don't need to depend on men. I acknowledged her point and replied that while that may be true, it was a gentlemans duty to take care of such things, feminism be damnned. On our way she told me she'd had dates where she had payed for everything and, horrified, I promised her that as long as she was in my presence she would never have to cover the tab. She elbowed me playfully, claiming she wouldn't expect that and demanded to cover the tab every once in a while. I agreed only because it meant that she wanted to this again, not really planning on letting her pay but allowing her to believe she would eventually.
As we walked she told me she was studying literature at the local university and that she hoped to someday have her name amongst the best of the best. I remarked that I would love to read her stories and she replied that maybe someday.
We reached her apartment and I bade her goodnight at the door, she thanked me for the evening, she added that we should do something like this again. I smiled, she smiled, I winked, she giggled softly, I stepped closer to her, my heart raced, she looked at me with wide eyes. I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her cheek, close enough to the corner of her mouth that she got the hint I wanted more but that I would let her be the one to call the shots.
Afterwards he walked home, hands in his pockets, thinking about how he was going to put his best effort into not screwing this up. Whatever this turned out to become. He was glad he had finally talked to her, even went on a date with her! yet he didn't come off as a freak or a creepy stalker. Guess all those year messing around and being the schools heartthrob along with his Marauders payed off. As Sirius Black thought back upon how the evening played out, he failed to realize that the girl coughed more than what one would call normal. Though, to be fair, her coughs weren't so bad or so often as to raise alarm. Not. Just. Yet.
Authors Note: This was originally meant to be longer, also meant to be a one-shot. I'm not sure if I should continue writing or not. This is also my first attempt ever at writing fan fiction. Please let me know what you think and if anyone wants me to continue. Also feel free to drop constructive criticisms 'cause I'd love to improve my writing. Thank you so much for reading!