It wasn't the cocky way he'd always catch the snitch. It wasn't the way he messed up his hair when he was bored. It wasn't even the way he'd tell her how beautiful she was.
It was the way she could tell what he was feeling without him even saying.
When he was worried about her his jaw would get tense, the muscles straining as if he was trying not to yell at whatever had made her stressed. He'd hold it there too, a pulsing vein in his neck as he held onto the anger and let it dissolve into making her happy again.
When someone made her sad his shoulders would tense and rise and he'd lose half of his neck. He was trying not to punch something, she knew that well enough by now. She could remember the multiple times he'd come to class with bandages around his knuckles.
When he bit his lip he was anxious. His top teeth would poke out and bite his full bottom lip as he took tests or waited for an upcoming match. It was always a sure sign he needed a distraction or he'd drive himself mad and she had been happy to help in those occasions.
When he chewed on the skin on his thumb he was thinking of something mischievous. He'd usually have a smirk on his face while he did it, writing his plans down on paper as his friends egged him on. He also did it when he was flirting with her, like she was always part of his plan.
When he rubbed his hands back and forth against each other he was tired. He'd get this goofy happy look on his face that had his glasses sliding down his nose. His fingers would rub against his palms over and over until he'd eventually fall asleep. No matter if in a chair or on the floor, he'd always be asleep in minutes.
When he ran his fingers through her hair, he wanted her to know he was there. He'd do it just to get her attention or when she was sleeping to remind her he was right there. He liked to tell her how it smelled and sometimes made a funny red mustache with the ends over his lips. It was his way of reminding her she was never alone.
And when he hugged her…he was making her feel his love. It would start in her toes, slightly tingly and ticklish as it moved up her legs. Then in her stomach, it was like a hot ball of light moving up through her chest and right through her heart. It would keep her warm for hours after he let go, the soft beating of his heart still drumming in her head. It beat at the same time as hers, a melodic thump thump thump.
It wasn't how he looked. It wasn't how he walked. It was who he was that made her love him and it was who he is that would get her through.