"Like
a Gentleman"
Complete
By
Kaimaru
Music and Lyrics by The Killers, "When you were
young"
Hermione struggled through the mobs of students walking to the Great Hall for dinner, looking fruitlessly for either of her best friends before catching sight of a familiar mop of long, curly red hair just a few feet away.
The red head caught sight of her about the same time. Afterall, how hard was it to spot the only person not in uniform? "Hermione! Where's your robes? Don't you have classes after dinner today? Ancient runes or something."
"Independent study." Hermione corrected automatically, sidling up next to her best female friend. Ginny had become her respite from all the long and dreaded discussions of Quidditch Ron and Harry had had over the years. Ginny had been perfectly understanding, having lived with a houseful of boys all her life and had even become the perfect accomplice for all the empassioned talks (or were they rants?) on love and hate, most decidedly around both of their limited love lives. "But professor McGonagall isn't going to be there to supervise."
Ginny sighed enviously. "To be loved by the faculty..." She said almost wistfully. Hermione snorted disbelieving, but smiled.
"Even Snape?" She couldn't resist, knowing Ginny had just gotten out of potions and was most likey up for some potion-master bashing. As predicted, the younger girl's face darkened.
"Snape isn't a teacher. He's a wicked and vile dementor in the guise of a man and Dumbledore just hasn't realized it yet."
"Ah, but the genius of Ginny Weasley, detective extrodinaire, however, wasn't fooled for even a moment."
Ginny punched her arm lightly. "Oh, stuff it." Hermione just laughed, feeling better than she had since this morning. Since...
Seeing Hermione's face fall suddenly, Ginny shot her friend a concerned look. "Are you alright, Hermione?"
Hermione blinked down a fresh batch of tears, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the pain crawling through her chest. "Not really." She answered honestly, glancing down. She'd trust Ginny with her life, and, more importantly, her secrets too. But she needed some time to herself first and let the realization wash over her before she could tell Ginny about it. "I'll tell you tonite, okay?"
"Why not at dinner?" When Hermione didn't look at her, Ginny made a sound of realization. "Ah, but you aren't going to dinner, are you?" Hermione shook her head. Ginny paused to examine her friend's strained expression for a moment before blowing out an irritated sigh. "So what did my lughead older brother do now?"
Hermione could of hugged the young Weasley, obscenely glad to know someone knew her that well and one could look that annoyed with their "older and wiser" sibling. "Could you just tell Harry and Ron I'm helping Madame Pomprey reorganize her supplies tonight and I'll see them tomorrow?"
"But didn't you help her with that yesterday..?" Ginny's brow wrinkled in confusion. They stopped outside the Great Hall as Hermione turned to face her, brown eyes pleading. Ginny held up her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I give. I'll lie for you, but if I'm found out you're doing the explaining, not me." She warned. Hermione grinned, catching her friend in a hug.
"Thanks so much, Ginny. I owe you one."
"Nonsense. But, nonetheless, I'll keep that in mind next time we visit Hogsmeade." With a wink and a cheery wave, Ginny ducked in to the great hall leaving Hermione behind as the corridors quickly emptied. Warmth seeped from the large room and Hermione fought the urge to just go in and simply soak in the cheer and companionship of the great hall, but she stayed herself. Not yet, she told herself. Then, giving the Gryffindor table one last glance, she turned heel and started down the dark corridor, footsteps echoing off the walls and feeling the cold already going through her, an exchange of words replaying and echoing through her mind.
"Ron, I have something to tell you."
"Sure, 'Mione. Wait. It's not about our transfiguration homework, is it?"
He eyed her suspiciously and she sighed, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "No. It's not about homework, Ron."
That caught his attention, pivoting in the stiff wooden chair to look at her curiously. "Hermione Granger not on about homework? Voldermort must be back from the dead." When she shot him the look, he held his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm all ears."
"I'm, well," she shifted nervously in her seat. "I'm not percisely sure how to say it..."
"Say what?"
"Ron, I... Oh, bugger."
His ears had turned pink. He had tasted like chocolate frogs.
"Well, what do you have to say to that?"
"I..." he swallowed, "Hermione, I...well," He looked away, guiltily, shoving a hand through his long, unruly mop of orange hair. "Hermione, I don't think of you like.. well, like that. You're my best friend."
A sharp, stinging pain similiar to Cruciatus curse sliced through her chest. She turned her head to the side, biting her lip to prevent the tears hovering in her eyes. Sternly reprimanding herself, she swallowed. I have to know. "Why not?"
"Merlin knows." He sighed. An awkward, silent pause between them, Ron trying to find the right words while Hermione focused on keeping her wits. Then when his hands unexpectantly grasped hers, her eyes darted to meet his apologetic brown eyes, realizing he had leaned forward until he was a few inches away. "Look, 'Mione. I am the maddest guy out there for not dating you. You're smart, pretty... I'll never hear the end of it from Fred and George, I'll bet, if they find out. But I've had my chance- I blew it. And in the long run, you wouldn't want someone like me. You need someone who's your equal."
"But I need you." Merlin, that sounded pathetic. Her breath had hitched in her throat, a blush had spread over her cheeks. He pulled her into a tight hug and she closed her eyes, inhaling Ron's scent.
"I'll be here for you, Hermione."
As he pulled away, Hermione shoved the chaos swirling through her mind as far away as she could and stood, forcing a small smile. "I'll be okay, Ron. I'll see you at dinner."
She had left - no, ran - after that. Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies dragged on and she copied down her homework with a new vigor, focusing on nothing else in the world except her homework, as if her life depended on it. Or maybe her sanity alone. She refused to cry. Not yet. Hermione simply bided her time until she could be alone to let her disappointment flood over her like a great wave.
Hermione stopped before two vast doors seperating the gloomy corridors from the outside. A distant rumble of thunder from outside accompanied the light rain slapping the windows. Hermione wasn't detered however. No one else would be outside with storm kicking up, and this provided her with some quiet relief. Solitude.
Without another thought, she brought both hands up and pushed against the solid door, listening to heavy wood scrape against the stone floor as a small enough gape appeared that she could slip through. The doors thudded shut behind her. The air was heavy with moisture, warning of worse to come, with wind whipping her hair against her face in a chaotic dance. Hermione closed her eyes, shoulders lifting and inhaling deeply. Then... she let go.
You
sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To
save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch him
now, here he come
Hermione
gazed blurrily through the haze of rain, unfocused on the infinte
gray surroundings as her thoughts churned inward, emotions clashing
and sinking like a maritime war within her head and heart. Blinking
slowly, however, a shadow very slowly started taking form amongst the
mists, and Hermione's breath hitched in surprise. Draco Malfoy.
Blond hair sopping and sticking to his sharp face with a broom slung
over his shoulder. Her muscles tightened, and she sat paralyzed as
he approached, all thoughts fleeing her frenetic and fuzzy mind. She
didn't want to speak to anyone now, least of all Malfoy, but she knew
better than to hope he'd keep his mouth shut and ignore her. So she
remained immobile as he watched her, waiting.He
doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young
The pitch was almost flooded by the rains, his boots sinking in to the soggy Earth with each step. As the storm showed no sign of relenting soon, Draco pulled his goggles down around his next to examine the empty field more clearly. He'd be alone to practice. The Slytherin 'prince' had left half-way through dinner without a word to his housemates to gather his gear from the dormitories and go outside. To Draco, there was nothing else like training in stormy, dangerous conditions. Adrenaline would race through his veins, as he struggled against the winds, hugging the broom shaft closer for leverage. Since last year, his Quidditch reflexes had improved brilliantly.
Suddenly his eyes narrowed, a slight figure crumpled against the Slytherin stands catching his eye. Her pale face lifted towards him, wide brown eyes soft with quiet grief and damp curls clinging to her slender neck. He recognized her immediately, the last girl he'd ever expect crying out in the rain. Hermione Granger. He's never seen her so unraveled, defenseless. Curious, but unkind, he greeted her after a long while after she made no move to speak.
"Are
you trying to catch ill, Granger? You look terrible." Then,
correcting himself, "I mean, worse than usual."Can
we climb this mountain, I don't know
Higher now than ever
before, I
Know we can make it if we take it slow
Thats
thinkin easy, easy now, watch it go
A faint smile flutters on her lips. "Maybe." Hermione answers slowly, disreguarding his last comment. Numbness seeps in to her words, feeling too exhausted to be offended. He seems surprised to her. "A nasty cold sounds perfect right now."
"Oh, really?" He almost wanted her to elaborate. "And why would it?"
No such luck. "Yes - Because then I'd look how I feel." Granger responded evasively.
"Then you must be feeling bloody terrible."
She pinned him with a pair of intelligent chocolate eyes. "You have no idea."
Draco clucked his tongue. "Now, seeing you decidely miserable does bring me a small amount of pleasure," he flashed her a wicked smirk which she returned with a glare, "However, I have a feeling McGonagall would probably have my head if I let her favorite pet out in the rain to rot."
Eyes averting to the side, Hermione ignored his deliberately harsh words. "Leave me alone, Malfoy. Please, I'd rather be alone right now."
"No."
She looked up. He explained wryly. "Granger, I've never listened to you in my entire life. What ever makes you think I'd start now?"
"I did say please."
"Doesn't matter." He shook his head, hair still matted to his forehead. "Now go inside. I have to practice before the rain lets up." He turned away, as if dismissing her. Hermione glared at him, startled by his unabashed arrogance. He expected her to listen to him, just like that?
"Then practice," she replied huffily before snapping her widened eyes to meet his. "Wait, you're going to flyin this?" She asked incredulously. He partially turned to reguard her, giving her a look she discerned as, "Isn't it obvious?"
"But what if the lightning-" She began urgently.
"Better be careful, Granger." He interrupted. "You're starting to sound as if you might care." Her mouth snapped shut. But she didn't let him win this one.
"But I do care."
Malfoy stopped walking, turning to examine her with suprise written all over his face.
Hermione stared at him. His hair darkened several shades when it's wet, she noticed. And how, oddly enough, with his untidy appearance, he seemed far less intimidating then the Slytherin prince she had known since first year.
She realized he was waiting for her to continue, and pressed on with a new vigor.
"Malfoy, you're a human just like the rest of us." She informed him, meeting his eyes and daring him to disagree with her. "Despite however arrogant and rude you are, I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you that I could've prevented."
Hermione didn't know what the hell she was saying or even if she wanted to find out, still feeling her heart pounding a thousand and one beats per second in her chest, and she idily wondered somewhere in the back of her vast mind if it'd simply pop out if she didn't calm down. She didn't think so, but she had never felt this way before, either.
When his eyes didn't wander away from hers, even slightly, she crossed her arms over her chest uncomfortably. What are we doing, anyway? Aren't we suppose to hate another? "And besides," she grumbled, finally averting her eyes from his, blushing lightly. "If I let you kill yourself, I could be expelled!" She shivered.
A short bark of laughter alerted her again to his prescence. "God god, Granger, did you just shudder at the thought of expulsion?"
"Sod
off, Malfoy!" She said defensively, blushing harder. "I'm
cold."
We're
burning down the highway skyline on the
Back of a hurricane that
started turning
When you were young
When you were young
He replied easily. "Then go inside."
"No," She refused defiantly, fire jumping from her gaze. Then, just as suddenly, the fire flickered out and her expression sobered at the mention of the castle and its inhabitants, remembering she was out in the rain for a reason other than arguing with him. "Aren't you suppose to be doing something?" She oh-so-helpfully reminded him.
He shook his head, for some reason annoyed at her sudden shift in moods. Misery- inflicted by anyone other than him - simply didn't suit Granger. Scowling, he said, "I can't practice with you down here - for Merlin knows whatever reason - pretending you're invincible." A complete lie and he knew it- He paused before blowing out an annoyed sigh. "You aren't making my life any easier."
"You're welcome."
"It wasn't meant as a thank-you."
"Close enough."
"Granger, you are the most annoying girl I've ever had the displeasure of knowing."
He could almost see the grin sure to be on her mouth too when she replied, "Likewise."
"You're not going inside are you?" He asked.
She buried her nose further in to the oversized cardigan sweater she was wrapped up in, replying in a muffled voice, "not a chance."
Hermione entertained the naive hope he had left when nothing but silence followed her announcement. Sighing deeply in to her sleeve, she nestled her face against the wet and fire-engine red fabric, closing her eyes. How long had she been out here? She couldn't tell if it was actually late out or if the storm clouds were blocking out the twilight. Oh well, did it really matter? She decided. Going back meant pretending to smile and act normal when she saw Ron next, and Harry, and Ginny. She didn't want to go back. She wasn't ready to get over him yet. Not yet.
"Give me your hand."
She lifted her head to find Draco had crossed the distance between them with his large hand outstretched to her. She looked at it for a moment in astonishment, before meeting his silver gaze questioningly.
He rolled his eyes. "Just a hand, Granger. It doesn't bite."
"I know that." She retorted. "And I already told you I'm not-"
"I'm not making you go inside." He finished for her, annoyance written on his face. Bloodly hell, even Dumbledore couldn't get her to go if she was this determined to freeze her knickers off. She eyed him skeptically for a moment longer before tentivily lifting her hand and placing it in his. It felt like ice. Warmth flooded through her. With little effort, he hoisted her to her feet and watched as she steadied herself, wincing as a particular painful cramp let itself be known in her leg.
"Look, you said you'd never forgive yourself if anything happened to me while I'm flying, right?" She nodded her head hesitantly, not sure where he was going with this. "And since you're so bent on doing something self-destructive, coming flying with me will not only satiate that but absolve yourself of all guilt should something happen."
Her eyes widened. "You're joking."
"Why would I?"
"That doesn't make sense at all!" She exploded, frantic. "No way am I getting on that-that-" She gesticulated with both of her hands to express just what she thought of his broom. "That abomination! I mean, I-I can't even fly!"
"That's not a problem." He brushed it off. "I'll control the broom so all you'll have to do is sit there and enjoy yourself."
Now, if this had been any other girl than Granger, Malfoy would've of considered bringing to light the unintended innuendo. However, since it was, indeed, the stormy head girl herself, he kept silent as the Gryffindor rushed to explain herself, completely oblvious to the almost-lewd comment. Mores the pity.
"No, you don't understand. I. Can't. Fly." She emphasised each word as if there was something he was missing.
And maybe there was.
His eyebrows shot up in realization. "Granger, you're afriad of heights, aren't you?"
She looked away. "So what if I am?" She grumbled. "A lot of people are afriad of heights."
Malfoy looked anything but convinced.
"But surely not perfect Hermione Granger." He insisted maliciously.
With a jerk of her head, Hermione was giving him a heated glare, and instantly he knew he'd hit a sore spot. In fact, last time he had been given that look, she had punched him square in the nose.
"I'm not bloody perfect, alright?" She growled, eyes narrowing and cheeks flushing. The rest of her was still paled from the chill of the rain, but she seemed somehow more alive than he'd seen her all night, her hands finding their way to her hips. "And I never said I am. Far from it, actually, but no one gets it that I bleed and breathe just like the rest of you."
Draco forced himself not to remove his eyes from hers. "Maybe everyone else is just jealous because you hide it better." He gave a weak shrug.
Hermione's features transformed rapidly from anger to confusion. "Who would want to hide what makes them human?" She softly asked.
"You'd be surprised."
She stood silent for a moment, searching his face for... for something, before sucking in a deep breath. "I hate heights." She admitted to him. He grinned slightly.
"I figured."
She returned the grin.
Wait.
Bloody hell, were they actually getting along? Draco went over the last few minutes in his head. Talking, not arguing, grinning... Oh shit.
"So are you coming, Granger?" He asked, changing the subject and distancing himself. Instead of noticing his change in behavior, her face paled.
"I..." Granger fumbled for any suitable excuse but found her mind vacant. Oh, no.
"You said yourself you wouldn't let me fly without trying to prevent it." He reminded her.
"I know what I said." She muttered irritated, knowing she had been successfully trapped.
"So?" He leaned forward, waiting for her response. She bit her lip, thinking, and his eyes were suddenly riveting on her redding mouth. Their proximity seemingly shrinked and he realized she was only a handspan away. Close enough, that if he were to lean forward...
"Malfoy."
He jerked his gaze up to meet her, startled.
She
hadn't noticed his errant gaze. With a nod to herself, she looked and
him with her eyes filling with determination. "You better be one
hell of a flyer."
And
sometimes you close your eyes
And see the place where you used to
live
When you were young
"You can open your eyes now, Granger."
Hermione clenched the broom with a white-knuckled grip, pushing back further in to Draco's surpirisingly comforting warmth. "Not yet," she answered weakly. They had been up in the air for only five minutes, after Draco gave her a brief explaination on safety and handling. But her stomach was already regretting it. I should've just gone inside, she moaned.
Malfoy had been patient with her, something which had amazed her to no end. He had only teased her when they had first kicked off the ground, when she had yelped and fell back in to his chest, muttering colorful obscenities under her breath to which he had laughed at. Actually laughed at. It wasn't at all like she would have imagined, yet oddly enough it fit him. It was deep and melodic, practically oozing with self-confident.
After his brief tutorial, he had mounted the broom first before motioning her to climb on in front of him. It would be the easiest position for him to navigate in and the safest for her, he explained when she outright refused, yet the intimacy of it wasn't lost on Hermione. His arms would be around her, for Merlin's sake! Malfoy, of all people! But she wasn't going to let him one up her. Oh, no. So with shoulders pulled back and chin raised defiantly, she tossed one leg over the handle and settled herself as comfortably as possible in front of the smirking git.
The smirking git who's soft chuckling was now reverbrating through her back as he leaned forward and made a smooth turn. The wind changed direction, and the loose strands of curly hair framing her face billowed to her left. It rained harder.
When he spoke next, Malfoy's lips brushed her earlobe. "Open your eyes." He commanded softly.
She considered keeping them shut, just of spite, but the unexpected contact made her eyes snap open, as did his tone. Was this really I-hate-mudbloods Malfoy she was dealing with?
Hermione's heart leapt in fright. Dark gray clouds swirled around them, sheets of rain pouring down, down, down... A crack of lighting forked in the distance, the sound almost deafening.
"Don't close them!" Draco's grasp on the broomstick tightened and they arced upwards, straight through the clouds and she fought valiently to keep down a shrill scream. I don't want to die But she did as she was told, she squinted as the cold winds burned her cheeks and the rumbling of thunder shook her slight frame. I trust you, Draco. Don't you dare kill me!
They erupted through the clouds and Draco slowed the broom down. It felt as if everything had stopped. The rain no longer pelted their cheeks, the wind calmed, the world seemed millions of miles away. Hermione stared in disbelief. The storm raged beneath them. They were above the storm.
One word breathlessly left her lips. "Amazing..."
Draco's arms unwrapped themselves from around her to push up his goggles, reguarding the rays of a setting sun streaming across them with a smirk. "You're welcome."
Hermione twisted around to catch his silvery eyes. "How did you...?"
"On accident. I flew too high during a Quidditch match once, chasing the snitch." His smirk widened. "We won."
Her eyes scanned their surroundings, squinting. "You can't even see Hogwarts."
"Just you and I." He agreed.
Hermione laughed. "Who would have ever thought?"
Draco observed her. Her warm, heart-melting chocolate eyes, missing their severity and the sadness from earlier. Her cheeks were flushed and her pink lips upturned in a bright smile. He couldn't help grinning, too. Hermione Granger certainly wasn't all he assumed she was.
"Hey Malfoy," she spoke, tilting her head to the side. "You know... You really didn't have to do this for me."
"Don't mention it." He waved it off. "Really, don't. Ever."
Hermione chuckled. "Don't worry. Your deep, dark secret is safe with me."
Draco had a brilliant idea. "And so is yours, Granger."
A rare, confused look breezed over her pretty features. "Which secret would that be?"
His grin nearly engulfed his entire face. "That you had my, ahem, 'broom' stradled for almost of hour. I'm sure quite few people would find that interesting.."
"Malfoy!" Her face turned scarlet, and she turned to smack him which he easily blocked, catching her wrist and laughing heartily. Hermione couldn't last long and soon broke out in her own laughter. "That's horrible." She adomished, grinning.
"No, what's horrible is I have a pretty witch, alone, stradling my broom and it isn't true."
"Well, maybe because said witch isn't easy." She countered, flipping her hair dramatically over her shoulder.
Draco made a show of looking heaven-bound. "Merlin, don't I know it. Ouch!" She finally landed a hit on his shoulder.
She was grinning brilliantly now, leaning back against his chest with her chin raised and meeting his gaze upside down. "But I'm worth the trouble."
And, Draco agreed, she probably was.
They
say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet
You don't have to
drink right now
But you can dip your feet
Every once and a
little whileSoon the rain
pushed against their cheeks once more as they descended through the
clouds, but Draco flew expertly with the wind currents than against
them and Hermione hardly felt a twinge of fright during their slow
spiral towards solid ground. She snuggled against Draco's chest,
noticing his arms instantly brace against her biceps. Contently
closing her eyes, Hermione absorbed his neverending warmth for a few
more minutes.
Hermione couldn't believe the boy who had teased her mercilessly since they first laid eyes on one another could be sincere or kind, especially to her. But whether he was being gentlemanly for his own reasons or in genuine concern, Hermione decided she didn't mind. She was grateful. As Draco's feet connected with land, Hermione jostled lightly against him and opened her eyes, blinking a few times before gazing upwards in to silver eyes belonging to a pale, attractive face. Despite any better sense in judgement she might possess, Hermione admitted to herself that she rather liked his eyes and the way they would swirl with disbelief or amusement. Draco had positioned his goggles against his forehead, some blonde hair sticking up behind them. She smiled at the absurd sight.
"Feeling better?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow.
Dismounting first, he offered her his hand. She didn't hesitate before sliding her small one within his, hopping gracelessly off. But she didn't let go of his calloused hand. Instead, lifting her dark, mishchievious eyes up to capture his, and unintentionally captivating the young Malfoy in surprise. How often did that expression grace the face of the ever prim and proper Head Girl?
His eyes really are amazing, she decided and after a long moment of studying them (while ignoring the sudden faster beat of her heart), she went on her tip-toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.
"Thank you, Draco." She murmured, falling back on her heels and offering a sweet smile. "I'm feeling much better now."
He stared at her, gaping slightly. "Any time." He replied tactlessly.
She laughed. And nervously, her fingers combed through her hair, tangling in the chocolately locks.
"I suppose I should go back before Ginny launches a search party." She smiled again. "Can we... Can we do this again sometime?" She implored.
And suddenly, Draco's eyes snapped down, meeting hers. "Next Storm." He proposed in a commanding tone.
Hermione nodded her head in agreement, blushing prettily. And then with a hasty turn, Hermione dissappeared in the heavy gray fog.
He
doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young
-
"Like
this?" Apprehension colored her voice. "Don't sound
so worried, Hermione. What's the worse that could happen?" "Oh,
I dunno. Plummeting to my death?" "Idiot," he
muttered. "like I'd let that happen." They
brushed by one another, and he pressed a note in to her palm.
Hermione smiled, eyes focused forward as her fingers curled
protectively around the small scrap of parchment. "Mudblood."
-
"Ferret."
-
"You're terrible," She cackled merrily as he dragged her around a corner while Snape billowed past, his robes singed and spotted with holes, a dark scowl etched on his face.
He grinned. "You helped." Draco pointed out.
"Only because he deserved it!"
-
They were both soaked to the bone with rain. "How could you?" She demanded.
He glared. "Like it's any of your business, Granger."
"You-"
Her brown eyes shimmered with angry, hurt tears. "Fine then."
She spun around and fled the pitch.
-
Gently,
Hermione traced the purple petals with her fingers, only removing her
gaze from the boquet of hyacinth to imploringly meet his eyes.
"Why...?" He looked uncomfortable. "An
apology." -
"I did it!" She leapt off the broom as soon as they landed, tearing the goggles from her eyes and smiling brilliantly. He grinned back, admiring her glowing face before she threw herself whole-heartedly in to his arms. "I actually did it!"
-
"Hermione, you're staring." Harry muttered gruffly.
Her eyes jerked away from their perusal of the handsome Slytherin and towards her notes. "Don't be silly, Harry."
"You've
been staring at him all week." He complained. "Ron's seen
it too!" "Longer than that..." She mumbled
underneath her breath, knowing he wouldn't hear it.
-
Rain
cascaded down around them, soaking through their heavy robes. He
looked stiffly away from her.
"Draco,
Neville and I are only friends." She stared hard at his pale
profile, resisting the impulse to smooth his damp and untidy hair,
lest she encourage another row. "Tell me what's wrong."
(Talks like a gentleman, like
you imagine) I
said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus But
more than you'll ever know
When you were young
He doesn't look a
thing like Jesus
FIN
Completed March 25, 2007
Revised and Edited June 21, 2007