Her Taste
by : epiphanies
A kaleidoscope shines into my right eye and the sun into my left. I squint up at the sky and see little, for I am blinded. I smile, displaying my teeth, and imagine them as piano keys. I regain my sight and fix my eyes upon the creature beside me. Her hair is red and frizzy and I decide that I do enjoy looking at it. Her head bobs up and down as she talks to her friend, mouthing rather, across the room. Her friend isn't really as pretty as she is. Not in a natural way. All of the girls wear eye paint and it's bothersome to me.
She doesn't. She'll smile and the world shakes a bit. Her skin is as freckled and pink as mine frankly isn't. She has crinkly eyes when she smiles. I'd compare that to my own but I do not smile. Her hands look silky, and I imagine how they would feel running through my hair.
She wouldn't like my hair. It's too dark and long for her taste. She'd more likely want a goofy head of hair, a smiling head of hair. One that did the old magic tricks, just to act silly and impress her in front of her insipid friends - and all of his.
I gaze up at the castle and I instantly feel a connection. We are conjoined, now. I will have a great partnership with this castle, I feel it shake inside of my bones. This castle will be the home of my untimely death that will surprise all and grieve few.
Maybe she'll shed a tear. And it will slip down her structured cheekbone and drop into, maybe, the crease in the middle of her blouse. For me.
But she'll probably just crinkle those eyes and say, "Severus? Who has a name like Severus?"
And things will remain as they always have.
The End.
