Start of a Romance
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, unfortunately.
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They say there's no single moment that can pinpoint the start of a romance. They tell her not to wait for it, but she does, for as long as she can remember. She waits for that one second where something inside her shifts and she suddenly knows that she's in love. Earth-shattering, mind-spinning, drive-you-crazy love. The only kind that's worth all the trouble.
He's different around her. His eyes are grey and steely, but when he looks at her, they're warm and welcoming and crinkle at the sides whenever she makes him laugh. With everyone else, he's sharp and harsh and unrelenting, but with her, he's the guy who pushes aside the covers so she can snuggle as close to him as she possibly can. At night, she falls asleep with her head rested against his chest, listening to the quiet drum of his heartbeat.
She feels better when she's with him. She loves the jolt of nervous excitement she feels whenever she's about to see him, like the second before she opens the door to his apartment. She's addicted to the tingle that runs up her spine whenever he pulls her in for a deep kiss, the type that leaves her with an ache somewhere deep inside her because she'll always want more.
When she wakes up one morning, she can hear him making noises in the kitchen, trying to get the microwave to work. It's a Muggle contraption and he's never used anything like it, but he's watched her use it every morning and he thinks he can do the same. She stands in the doorway and watches him until he looks up and sees her there, a helpless look on his face. She asks him what he's doing, and he says, "I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed."
Maybe it's the look on his face, so eager and yet so clueless. Maybe it's his hair, his glorious blond mess that's sticking up in random places and makes him look younger than he normally does. Maybe it's the way he's holding the microwave door open, still trying to get it to work. Mostly it's the rush of joy she feels as she stares at him, the way something inside her clenches and then expands, as if he took her heart in his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
They say there's no single moment that can pinpoint the start of a romance, but this is hers.
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A/N: I was stuck at a friend's apartment yesterday with nothing to do and nowhere to go until she woke up (long story). Since I didn't have any of my works-in-progress with me, I had to write something from scratch, and this little drabble was born.
Let me know what you think, lovelies.
