𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 : sabrina spellman .
with her bag firmly pressed to her side , sabrina had cleared the last streetlight , knowing that she was now a few short steps from her home . her mind whirled within her , slowly going over the details of the day that had yet to SINK in due to the rush of the past few hours . her mind , in an entire state of it’s own had FAILED to alert sabrina to the sounds from around the building corner , leaving her to smash into the other person . the feeling– almost like hitting a break wall for the petite figure left her shaking her head , a sheepish smile on her face as the apologies began to murmur out . “ i should’ve been watching where i was going , i don’t know WHAT i’m doing half the time . ” her eyes had SOON landed on the person in question , breath hitching in her chest as the realization swept over her . there was no misidentifying him, the hazel eyes that turned to meet her only confirmed it.“ harvey . i’m so sorry , let me help . ” sabrina , someone who RARELY was left fumbling , was at a loss. the blonde had swooped down quickly, scrambling to grab the book and aligned all the papers before sliding it into her exboyfriend’s hands. the SILENCE , as deafening as it was , concerned her. “are you alright?” she questioned , bright brown eyes meeting his. then – as if HILDA and her awkwardness had taught the witch nothing , sabrina exclaimed the following loudly. “it’s really good to see you– here. i mean. it’s good to see you here.”
𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐘 , floundering for something , ANYTHING , to say . but he can’t . all he can do is stare , mouth opening and closing over and over like a fish out of water . frantic , he opens his sketchbook , digging through his pockets for a pencil . the RED one . go figure . in the dark , he has to squint to see what he’s doing , but he manages . in his ugly , crooked handwriting , he writes her a message . his hands shake VIOLENTLY , and the words are barely readable . then it hits him : she doesn’t know . sometimes , he doesn’t speak , and she doesn’t know . it’s far too much to write , and he physically cannot say it . so what does he do ? part of him wants to RUN , another part wants to CRY , but majority rules , and he mostly wants to scream . he wasn’t prepared to see her today — or ever . he likely could’ve gone FOREVER without ever seeing her again ; as painful as that sounds . he thrusts the book into her hands , eyes silently begging her to read it . can she hear what’s in his head ? he wishes she could . written on the page : it’s good to see you , too .