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↱ in which a small interaction lingers in his mind
IT WAS COMPLETELY IRRATIONAL for somebody to be the only thing on one's mind for however long she had been on his. And for her to walk away without a glance back, or however many glances he had given her, it was completely unfair.
Of course, Harry Potter didn't mind the constant thought of her—she was beautiful. She was a stranger, a random girl who had accidentally bumped into Harry and left with an apology, just like any other random person would do. But she had managed to do it so much better than anyone else could.
It was so selfish the way she left before his courage could come back to him.
Maybe then, she would know his name and he would know hers. He only expected a name that rolled off her tongue just as gracefully as she appeared.
Harry wished he could relive the moment her back briefly pressed against his chest, before she turned around to face him and everything in his body shut down. When she finally spoke in her beautifully accented voice and every scar planted across his body had been healed.
Alas, she had left him standing in the middle of the crowd, flustered and at a loss for words; and he wasn't sure he'd ever have the pleasure of seeing her face again.
Considering all this, you could imagine how shocking it was when she walked down the stairway of the same pub he was staying at.
It was a shock, so shocking in fact, that Harry felt his cheeks begin to burn. It was a horrible feeling and she'd done it to him the second her fiery gaze landed on him, causing flames to erupt on the surface of his cheeks.
She instantly looked away, disregarding what he assumed looked like a confused and slightly crazy boy staring at her with eyes as wide as saucers.
His stare still planted on her, she trotted over to the bar, hesitating before the menu to observe all of its contents. She approached the counter and presumably ordered something for herself. In that moment, he couldn't help but envy the barman, he would be able to hear her angelic voice while staring into the inner pools of honey and the outer green meadows that were her hazel eyes.
He was sure he looked really stupid, standing in the middle of a pub with nothing but a room key in his hands and staring at the back of some girl's head. He figured he had to look like he was doing something, so he rushed over to the corner of the pub where there were bookshelves filled with books he definitely wasn't interested in. He slid one off a shelf and sat down at a round table.
