Not So Studious Ravenclaws and Blood-Red Lips

Blood red lips and silver eyes capture his soul,

Black clad woman whisks away, sparkling green eyes and a smirk on her face,

She can't hide it, he can't fight it,

And they both know what they need.

He watches his silver-eyed beauty,

Sees the scars that cross his face,

He doesn't try to Conceal them,

His expression like the open book before the lad,

As he licks his lips in concentration,

The one who watches wants

He doesn't hide his staring,

The watched pretends not to notice,

Wants to simply finish his book.

And he does—without interruption,

But he feels those eyes on him,

And bites his lip, drawing blood.

He's well aware that people think he wears lipstick.

It's only simple misunderstanding to him.

He's not surprised, he bites his lips often enough.

He doesn't know how much the older boy enjoys this,

He doesn't intentionally turn the raven-haired boy on,

He bites his lips when he's curious or confused,

And the boy's eyes on him is confusing to him,

So confusing that when he bites, he usually breaks past skin.

But he hopes someday,

To understand.