I wrote Hermione's point of view before. Now here's Ron's. Hope everyone likes it. Something I wrote in 5-10 minutes because it flowed.
She thinks I don't notice anything.
But I notice everything.
The way she purses her lips when she reads.
The way her brow furrows when she stumbles across something she doesn't understand.
How her eyes linger on Harry when he's not looking, trying to find something beyond her.
Trying to understand the things he does not speak of aloud.
She looks at me too, when she thinks I can't see her.
But her look differs each time.
There's resentment in her gaze.
It burns right through me and I can hardly breath.
Sometimes there's anger.
Disgust.
And I shrink beneath that stare to something inconsequential.
Her eyes water sometimes, and I want to console her. I want to apologize, get down on my knees and beg her for forgiveness even if it was not I at fault.
Sometimes its tenderness that she conveys. Sweet and innocent, and I just want to kiss her and smell her hair and feel the curve in her back.
Lust. I see it, I swear I do. Her soft, kind face changes to determined and I can hardly resist her.
But more often then not, it's curiosity.
She looks at me so questionably that I want to ask her what it is she's thinking of.
It's as if she's seeing through me. As if I'm transparent, a ghost, and she's simply reading my insides.
But if she were, then she would know.
She would know that I love her.
Everything about her draws me in.
Her chocolate eyes full of depth and understanding.
I know she believes their ordinary but they are anything but.
Her nose, that rests so perfectly, so proportionately in the middle of her face.
Her lips, I can hardly resist. So perfect they might as well be drawn on.
Porcelain skin, as white as a doll's, with freckles I will someday count.
And her hair, a contribution to her insecurities for reasons I will never understand.
And so, I conclude, she is perfect.
Ideal.
Flawless.
I could continue rounding up synonyms.
And then there's me.
Tall. Gangly. Ginger. Awkward. Freckly.
No one.
Harry Potter's mate.
And so I can only resist every urge I feel every time she looks at me because I'm scared of rejection.
Rejection from her.
Instead, I just keep noticing more, adding things to my list, watching her out of the corner of my eye.
When she thinks I don't notice a thing.
I do notice.
Tada, there it is. Well let me know what you think. I will be updating my other stories soon, check em out if you haven't already.
Happy Holidays :)