So, lots of people told me that I should have included Angela's POV last chapter. I decided to do a short little snippet of Angela's feelings after meeting Hodgins. More yummy Hodgela! And it is very short—but don't be hatin'! Read and, perhaps, review!
Disclaimer: No. You get it by now.
Angela Montenegro wasn't quite sure what to make of the entomologist with the startling blue eyes. No, that's a lie, she thought to herself as she walked down the fluorescent-lit hallways of the Jeffersonian Institute in Washington DC. I know what to make of him. He's a nice guy with a talent for bugs and slime, a fun sense of humor and a great body. Even if it is a little short.
That seemed straightforward enough. What she couldn't figure out was her reaction to him. Angela had an artist's eye—the first thing she did upon meeting someone new and (this was the important part) interesting was to try to memorize their most distinctive feature—that way if she ever wanted to use it in a painting later, she could. Angela kept a little catalogue of features inside her head—the moustache on that guy she'd seen in Georgetown, that one woman's striking red hair, the little boy's deep brown eyes.
But that was it—she only remembered single characteristics. And now she had Jack Hodgins' entire face branded before her eyes. Wherever she turned, she saw the long lashes, the quirky half-smile, the startling eyes, the curly brown hair and scruffy beard.
Angela shook her head to clear it. This is crazy, she thought to herself, sinking down onto a bench that overlooked Brennan's large workspace. I don't even know the guy. I've said about ten words to him!
What was it that made Hodgins so…interesting to her? Angela couldn't figure it out. She realized that it was stupid, to be so fixated on someone she'd met 30 minutes ago—but that didn't erase his face from her vision. Finally Angela pulled a small sketchpad from her bag and began to draw with the pencil stuck through the spirals along the top.
First came the curly hair…then the nose, the ears, the smile. Finally, a pair of intense eyes emerged onto the page, staring directly through her and completing the sketch. Angela sat back and surveyed her work.
Not great—but not horrible either. She flipped the sketchpad closed and stuffed it back into her purse. Hopefully, with luck, she would be able to forget Dr. Jack Hodgins. For now, at least.
Short but sweet. I hope. Anyway, it may have been short, but does that mean that this chapter is any less deserving of reviews? Of course not. We are not length-ist here. We do not discriminate. So go ahead! Fight discrimination in your society by reviewing this chapter! Every word counts.
