Disclaimer: Harry Potter will always be Jo's.
Hermione entered Ron's study after sending Hugo off to sleep. She plopped herself on the leathered chair, tired after having to use magic to make Hugo sleep. Hermione opened each and every single drawer at the desk, checking his stuffs, like she always does when Ron was off at work. She stopped after noticing a crumpled parchment. She opened it and started on reading.
The way her eyes shine are nothing like the stars or the sun,
Roses and coral are more redder than that of her parched lips,
And how her hair keeps on meshing like how the bees are stuck in the bushes,
I have seen the reddest roses and cherries but I see no such roses and cherries on her cheek,
And the fragrance of jasmines and lilies can I find pleasure than in her breath.
I love to hear her speak but birds create more beautiful sound than her voice,
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.
After reading it her anger started on boiling. My breath doesn't reek! she thought. She read it again and again, and then smiled.
"But how he loves my imperfections is one of the reason why I love him the most," she whispered to herself as she hugged the parchment.
I don't know guys, what do you think about this story? Short? Yes, I know.
Oh and if you're a literature student or a William Shakespeare fan you probably know that I borrowed the last two lines of this poem from Will's poem.
Reviews are author's delight! Tell me if you love it or if you don't! It is very much appreciated!