Title: Open Book
Author: defying stars
Summary: It wasn't love, not yet, because she was a Ravenclaw and he was dead.
Disclaimer: Of course, all belongs to the queen herself, and the pairing (Nick/Helena) was formed by Mew and Mor (of Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings). Check them out!
He had always thought of her as beautiful.
Even if he hadn't known her when she was alive, well; he could imagine the picture she would paint. Porcelain skin. Ruby lips. Dark eyelashes. Chocolate Eyes. Chestnut hair. Secretive smile. Lowered gaze. Curved eyebrows. Piano fingers. Small feet. Warm embrace. Beautiful.
And that was simple, easy and natural, to think of her as such. He could not imagine her as past twenty-five, and he was sure she wouldn't have it any other way. That was her imperfection, it seemed.
She had always thought of him as handsome.
She hadn't known him when he was alive, and so only knew the delicate, faded image before her. He had no colour to his face and, honestly, she liked him like that. And, being a Ravenclaw, did not bother to lose herself in such things as imaginings. What would her mother think?
Now that was a question.
He had always thought she was... wild.
She was this kind of untameable, deadly creature who flitted through the trees - or, in her case, walls - and almost floated through the air - though it was really quite literal - and whose gaze could kill, or set fire to, whoever it was set upon - well, that was still to be proven, but Nick could feel the heat already.
She had always though he was... reliable.
That's what they all thought, wasn't it? Ask Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost - he'll help you. The Grey Lady? Helena Ravenclaw? Who? Ask Sir Nicholas, he's usually floating about the Charms corridor right about now.
And, well, it was true. It was though he was running on a clock, in a pattern. Easy to follow, Nick was. Easy to read.
And, being a Ravenclaw, she didn't imagine that he had purposely left out the wrong book.
Maybe Helena was just using him, ghost to ghost, but Nick was using her too. They were almost bittersweet, and it worked, in their twisted way. He liked to imagine what she would be like if she were alive, and she liked to have the facts of him set out in front of her. It wasn't love, not yet, because she was a Ravenclaw and he was dead.