Update on 100quills challenge
001: Admire
I love the way his hair flops into his eyes when he reads. Honestly, it’s the only thing I can look at while we’re in the common room at night, and it’s murder. He has to know that he is doing it-how could he not?
It started out simply enough, like all epic romances do. We were friends, Remus Lupin and I, and though we were not the very best of friends, we were close. We lived together in Gryffindor tower, his bed two over from mine, and he, James, Peter, and I became fast friends like no other students in our year. He, however, was the quietest, the most soft-spoken, and damn, was he smart. Top of our year, Remus Lupin was, from the get-go. How many nights I have spent curled up with his notes, studying frantically for exams or just admiring his handwriting, I honestly could not tell you.
The only problem with my epic romance with Remus Lupin is, in essence, the most fundamental aspect of it: the romance. We are seventeen, just about to graduate, and for at least three years-maybe more, who can say?-I have been staring at that little flop of blond-brown hair and wanting to push it back, He would look at me in that moment, the moment when my fingers shoved that rogue lock away, and he would smile and whisper, “Sirius.” It would be my undoing, and everyone would see me melt into his lap and kiss him.
That would not do at all. First of all, there is no way Remus would kiss me back, especially in the middle of the common room with James and Peter gawking at us. No, no, it would need to be private, but even then, I happen to know that Remus harbours a precious little crush on Sinistra. Please. She could never handle that much man, much less that much wolf. I could.
I could.
I love the way his hair flops into his eyes when he reads. Honestly, it’s the only thing I can look at while we’re in the common room at night, and it’s murder. He has to know that he is doing it-how could he not?
It started out simply enough, like all epic romances do. We were friends, Remus Lupin and I, and though we were not the very best of friends, we were close. We lived together in Gryffindor tower, his bed two over from mine, and he, James, Peter, and I became fast friends like no other students in our year. He, however, was the quietest, the most soft-spoken, and damn, was he smart. Top of our year, Remus Lupin was, from the get-go. How many nights I have spent curled up with his notes, studying frantically for exams or just admiring his handwriting, I honestly could not tell you.
The only problem with my epic romance with Remus Lupin is, in essence, the most fundamental aspect of it: the romance. We are seventeen, just about to graduate, and for at least three years-maybe more, who can say?-I have been staring at that little flop of blond-brown hair and wanting to push it back, He would look at me in that moment, the moment when my fingers shoved that rogue lock away, and he would smile and whisper, “Sirius.” It would be my undoing, and everyone would see me melt into his lap and kiss him.
That would not do at all. First of all, there is no way Remus would kiss me back, especially in the middle of the common room with James and Peter gawking at us. No, no, it would need to be private, but even then, I happen to know that Remus harbours a precious little crush on Sinistra. Please. She could never handle that much man, much less that much wolf. I could.
I could.