Have you ever been lying in bed when suddenly you feel like you're falling? Right as your brain is powering down, your mattress turns into a vortex, and it pulls you down, down, down, until your body jerks back up in retaliation. Your heart starts pounding and your breathing quickens, and for one inexplicable second, you're afraid.
That's how I feel when he looks at me. For one inexplicable second, I feel like I'm falling, and when I pull myself back on my feet, I am breathless. I am afraid.
His eyes are framed with long, dark lashes. They verge on being effeminate, but are offset by the masculinity of his eyes, which are grey and strong and beautiful, in the way that a man can be beautiful sometimes. He is so beautiful.
It's a Sunday morning and I find myself lingering in bed, listening to rain drops pelt the glass windows in my dormitory, thinking that his eyes are the exact same color as a rain cloud. I can see the sadness in his eyes of course, but there's something else there, too. Like sunlight peaking out behind cloud cover.
His eyes are so sexy.
What I would give to run my hand through his shaggy black hair; to trail my lips along his ivory skin; to feel his body pressed up against me, and see his eyes watch me with longing.
But this is impossible. Because his closest friend believes that he's in love with me…and I would like to kill his closest friend.
Sirius Black…. A girl can dream.
