Hermione reflects
read and review please! I haven't written this kind of story before so opinions are appreciated.
(Check out these other stories too: deathly hallows missing moments and another great fic :D )
.net/s/4904693/1/The_Silver_Doe_Deathly_Hallows_Missing_Moments
.net/s/5228076/1/Permission_to_Die
I peer over my school book to catch a glimpse.
A glimpse of his freckly face relatively perplexed at the words in his own book.
His eyes dart to my face, our gazes meet, and back to his book as I to mine,
both no doubt hoping that the other had not seen this momentary act of frivolity.
I however do not look past the moment, and would like a reoccurrence.
Because his eyes are something else.
Transparent blue would not suffice as a description.
It's hard to depict such a magnificent sight. And the feelings that come with it.
His eyes are like no other- a window to the soul.
I laugh coherently at my contemplation. I was always one to think cliché.
But no other portrayal comes to mind.
I can always see right through him.
His sincerity never fails.
And as you stare, engulfed by the vision- petrified at perfection, numbness creeps over.
Although a good numbness.
A sort of chill that makes you smile lazily and forget everything else.
And then I think. If he achieves all this with one look at me;
With one look my knees quiver, my heart beat fastens and my hands shake.
Positively smitten.
Yet I, no doubt, produce no similar reaction.
My eyes are too dark of a colour to appreciate, too brown to see through.
My emotions stay hidden.
And so, he'll never know how taken I am by one look from him.
How I wish I could linger in his presence forever.
And it scares me, that he'll remain oblivious, and I eternally in love.
But he has no way of knowing.
He calls my name.
I blush fiercely as I am brought out of my reverie, feeling as if he might see right through me just this once.
He asks me a question regarding our homework.
I am keen to answer, as always.
He smiles at me. A smile that reaches his eyes of course.
And I sigh dreamily like the foolish girl I am.
Yet a comforting thought arises.
He does not smile that way at anyone, the way he does at me.
Maybe it was I, after all, who remained oblivious all along.