i r u n a w a y w h e n t h i n g s a r e g o o d
a n d n e v e r r e a l l y u n d e r s t o o d
t h e w a y y o u l a i d y o u r e y e s o n m e
i n w a y s t h a t n o o n e e v e r c o u l d . . .
Todas as vezes que acordava de manhã e se lembrava de todas as aulas que teria no dia, Tilden escondia a cara no travesseiro e reclamava consigo mesmo sobre a existência da escola. Ao contrário do que a grande maioria daqueles que o cercavam pensavam, Tilden não era um completo nerd. Inteligente e estudioso sim, mas isso não significava que gostasse de estudar, e sim que soubesse que estudar lhe traria um bom futuro, principalmente ao estudar Herbologia, já que seu sonho era seguir carreira naquela área, mesmo que ainda não tivesse muita certeza de como. Ele podia não ser um grande nerd maluco pelos estudos e apaixonado pela escola, mas também não era estúpido.
Arrumou-se com uma lentidão quase exaustiva de se olhar, preparando-se psicologicamente para mais um dia exaustivo da mesma rotina de sempre. Ele já se acostumara, afinal. Qual estudante não se acostumaria? Era algo obvio de seu dia-a-dia. Foi neste momento, dividido entre o torpor do sono e a preguiça de terminar de se arrumar que o Toots finalmente tomou a terrível decisão de olhar no relógio, e então que notou estar profundamente atrasado. Não notara a ausência de seus colegas de quarto, e se amaldiçoou por isso, pois Linus jamais sairia para a aula mais cedo que ele em situações normais. Praguejou enquanto corria arrumar seus materiais e por fim correu dormitório afora desajeitadamente.
Tropeçou pelos corredores até a sala de Transfiguração. Não podia acreditar que mais uma vez conseguira se atrasar para aquela aula. Nada era pior que o olhar de severa decepção de McGonagall ao olhá-lo quando chagava atrasado. Talvez preferisse levar uma bronca aos gritos que ter de suportar aquele olhar, era terrível. Também havia o fato de que quando chegava atrasado raramente podia escolher sua dupla, e por isso acabara de sentando ao lado de um sonserino preguiçoso com quem nunca conversara e o atrasara completamente na hora de fazer a lição. Era uma tortura.
Naquele dia porém, algo estava tentando fazê-lo se sentir ainda mais envergonhado que o fato de chegar atrasado e receber o temido olhar de Minerva. Mais tarde teria pela primeira vez que ajudar alguém em alguma matéria. Não poderia negar o pedido da Professora Sprout quando ele fora feito de forma tão lisonjeadora (”Você é um dos melhores alunos de Herbologia que já tive, Tilden. Não poderia pedir para outra pessoa”). Por isso concordara prontamente. A aluna ajudada seria Daisy Hookum, um ano mais nova, mas de sua própria Casa. Ele a conhecia e até já tinham tido algumas conversas breves, mas nunca tivera nenhuma tentativa de qualquer das partes para aprofundá-las. Mais por timidez do que por qualquer outra coisa, ele sabia disso. A perspectiva de precisar ajudar outra pessoa com uma matéria o assustava. E se ele errasse algo? E se passasse alguma instrução errada? E se Sprout passasse a odiá-lo por aquilo? Era assustador. Mas ele precisava manter o pensamento positivo, por isso encaminhou-se para a biblioteca após o almoço no horário combinado, avistando rapidamente a cabeleira ruiva. Ele respirou fundo, mentalizando “Vai dar tudo certo”, e com tais pensamentos desajeitados e confusos em sua cabeça, o rapaz se sentou ao lado da garota. - Bom dia! - disse animado, apesar do frio na barriga que a situação lhe causava.
Remember the moment when it just clicked? [ self-para ; ]
March 1975, Ravenclaw Tower balcony, 9:47pm
“Just try it.”
“Dude, no.”
“Please?”
Daisy had that simple, sweet little smile that made it hard for Tilden to tell her no. It was her best smile, her favorite smile, the kind that was all teeth and completely free, because it didn’t matter if anyone but Tilden saw it, and she didn’t have to try to make herself seem pretty. Daisy always did that, those little closed-mouth smiles, ever since some boy told her that it made her look cute to smile like that. And it did (though Tilden felt she was biased in saying so), it did make her look cute, but not like this. This was a smile that Daisy reserved specially for Tilden; it was wild, vibrant as Daisy’s ginger hair and warm as the sun. And Tilden couldn’t help but smile back when Daisy smiled at her like that.
“Okay, fine, but only once.”
Daisy clapped her hands together. “Excellent!” She licked her spoon clean before raising it to her face, balancing it carefully on the end of her short nose before looking at Tilden with an excited and expectant raising of her eyebrows. Tilden sighed, removed her spoon from the small tub of ice cream they’d acquired in Hogsmeade, and licked it before putting it on her nose. It wobbled for a moment, threatening to fall with a clatter to the floor, before steadying.
Tilden grinned, and Daisy grinned back. “Now what?”
“Now,” Daisy said, in her most conspiratorial whisper. “Now we try and click the spoons together without dropping them.”
“This is the silliest game I’ve ever heard of. I think you made it up.”
“Hush.” Daisy leaned forward a fraction, and with a small roll of her eyes, Tilden copied her. Daisy’s eyes were crossed, focusing on the wobbling of her spoon at the end of her nose. Tilden’s eyes were on Daisy biting her lower lip with concentration. They leaned forward a fraction more; the spoons wobbled dangerously. Daisy stifled a laugh, Tilden smiled.
“Don’t drop it.”
“I said hush now.” They were only a few inches apart. Tilden could count the freckles on Daisy’s nose, see every little fleck of blue in her bright eyes, every red-gold lash. She’d seen them all before, a hundred thousand times. But never this close.
Oh, said her mind, quite softly, as they leaned forward a fraction more. Oh no.
The spoons clicked together. Tilden didn’t move to pull away, and neither did Daisy. Her eyes moved up to Tilden’s. Tilden could feel Daisy’s breath on her face as she let out a small, soft breath.
Oh no, oh no, oh no.
It would only take a small movement to bring their lips together. One little shift, one inch of movement, and it wouldn’t just be Daisy and Tilden, best friends. It would be Daisy, and “hey, maybe I like you as more than a friend” Tilden. It would be the end of things as she knew them, the comfort of the familiar abandoned in favor of plunging into the uncertainty of the new.
“Hey, Daisy...” Tilden felt her face flushing already.
Daisy smiled her little closed-mouth smile at her. The smile boys seemed to love so much. “Yes?”
“I...” Your best friend. She’s your best friend. Tilden forced a smile. “I bet you’ve got rocky road on your nose.”
The smile came back, the one that she loved, and Daisy laughed. The spoons clinked again against their faces. “Oh, Tilly...” She softened her laughter to a giggle, blinking up at Tilden with a wide smile still on her face. “We pull away on three, alright? One...two...three.”
The spoon dropped from Tilden’s nose straight into the tub of rocky road ice cream. Tilden laughed, and Daisy’s giggles bubbled up again. Her spoon was still on her face, clinging stubbornly to Daisy’s little nose like it was glued there. Tilden reached out and knocked it gently from Daisy’s face. "Hey!’
Tilden snorted with laughter. “You’ve got ice cream all over your face,” she teased. Daisy’s cheeks flushed.
“I do not,” she protested indignantly. “You do.”
“Not that bad, dude. You’ve got it everywhere.”
Daisy glared at her before dipping her hand into the half-melted tub of ice cream, scooping out a handful of rocky road and smearing it across Tilden’s face. “Now you do too,” she said. Tilden blinked chocolate from her eyelashes. They stared at each other for a moment, Daisy with her nose dark with ice cream and her hand still clutching the half-melted mess, Tilden with rocky road dripping slowly down her cheek onto her robes. She half leaned forward. Daisy’s cheeks were still flushed; her eyes darted to a second to Tilden’s mouth. Or had she imagined it?
She’s your best friend.
Tilden reached into the tub of ice cream and scooped a handful, pressing it to Daisy’s nose. Daisy’s face scrunched up with a giggle, and she let out a small exclamation of “Tilden, noo!” Tilden smiled, hoping that Daisy wouldn’t be able to hear in her voice what she was certain showed in her eyes. “I told you you had something on your nose.”
