raising up from his bed, he slowly waltzes to the closest mirror in his room, checking himself out. damn, he thinks to himself, this is going to be fine. he met her about a month ago at this college party in western London, baked as he was, he wanted to contemplate the true meaning of secrets or something - she was the only one who wanted to listen to him. it was the night when hermione didn’t want to come with him and stayed at home ;; he attempted to convince her but did not succeed, so he went alone. who knows if he’d met this girl if hermione was there to listen to his contemplating.
as he’s looking at himself in the mirror, he hears high heels cackling in the next room, but doesn’t pay too much attention to it, until his name is shouted from her mouth.
slowly moving towards the door, with a shirt too small and work out pants barely kept above his arse, he opens it and throws his head through the arch dramatically. noticing hermione’s attire, he can’t help himself but stare for a moment or two. yes, he knew she was beautiful, he’s noticed that many times ;; others noticed that too, hence why he was asked the same question so many times (”are you two doing it? you two are so doing it. what the hell dude, have you seen her?”). tonight she looked stunning.
he didn’t know what to ask first - where is she going that pretty or why was she calling him-..
the memories return suddenly. her wild obsession over italian operas (out of NOWHERE). hours of puccini and verdi on the radio, them crawling to the bed with the pc in their lap, booking the tickets for this exclusive show months before it came to to the theatre here ;; SHIT.
he cannot hide the sudden change in his expression as he realises he completely forgot about this, and even worse - got a DATE for tonight.
“it’s tonight, isn’t it…” he starts, grabbing his head with both his hands, swirling them through his hair delicately as he always does when he screws something up, doesn’t dare to look in her eyes, as he hears the doorbell ring.
she knows he forgot before he even opens his mouth, can feel the atmosphere shift, and it’s UNBEARABLE, pain, her hand fluttering near her mouth in a compulsive need to wipe off the make up, go back to her room, to HIDE.
YOU SUDDENLY REMEMBER that time you were five and carl stole your favourite toy; there are claws reaching within your chest and RIPPING | APART what you knew to be a heart of glass, and if you bleed, you bleed anew, taste the copper on your tongue from where you bit your cheek too hard, but your lips are red anyway, the colour vivid, gaining a new meaning.
she closes her eyes, thinks back to his hand through her hair as she nestled next to him and spoke hours to an end about the IMPORTANCE of the show, doesn’t DARE to open them in fear of the heaviness suddenly weighing down her lids to spill.
‘ I UH--- yeah, but i mean...
for once, words fail her and she shifts her gaze to her heels, rolls her shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. SUDDENLY, her expression shifts, morphs, an a smile replaces the heart break, even as she is vulnerable, even as she feels like drowning, choking on air.
‘ IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING ELSE PLANNED... i’ll just call remus. actually, no, i’m sure james && lills wanna go, so yeah. i was feeling sick anyway, don’t know what i was thinking.
( word vomit, princess. her teeth sink into her tongue, the smile shakes, threatening to break. )
