She felt his fingers in her hair and stopped reading. She stared at the book for a few more minutes, noticing how no one had ever done this. Flora looked up from the book, staring up into Andrew’s eyes. She looked up at him, no emotion on her face really - she looked innocent with wide eyes. She bit down her lip, still looking up at him. She didn’t have any thoughts in her head at the moment - it was all fuzzy. Like when you drank one too many butterbeers. Flora didn’t know what to do now - she was stuck in his gaze.
He stared back down, his eyes smoldering and soft. He didn’t know what to do anymore, and the only words on his mind were I, fancy, and you. He slowly leaned down, his eyes never leaving her face. He was taking in her innocent expression, her glassy eyes, and intoxicating scent. Andrew wasn’t thinking anymore, he wasn’t guided by his brain, he was guided by his heart. His fingers pressed into her scalp, and his breath was ghosting on her face. Before he could even think about it, he pressed his lips against hers and shut his eyes.
Flora kept her hair covering most of her face so she could hide her smile. She was biting down painfully on her lip so she wouldn’t laugh at his expression. When Andrew blushed it was well, cute. She was never the cause of someones blush, really. She looked down at the book, skimming over the pages with her eyes. She realized he was actually quite talented and looked up, smiling genuinely at him, “You’re better than me.” Then she frowned and turned around, laying her head in his lap and looking up at him, smiling again, before turning back to the book. She tried to keep her stomach calm, yet nothing she tried helped. Her stomach was positively full of butterflies.
He started chewing the inside of cheek, trying not to squirm when she lay her head on his lap. Her head and hair looked at if they actually belonged on there, he couldn’t stop from wishing he could thread his fingers through the silkiness of her hair. He couldn’t form coherent thoughts, his mind was forcing him to do something he wanted to do, but his sanity was tugging him towards the other end. He moved his fingers towards her hair, and softly let it tangle in between his fingers, surprised with the incredible softness and silky feel. He didn’t even know what he was doing, he was just feeling. Her scalp was warm underneath his touch, he never wanted to untangle his fingers from her hair.
Okay I get it. You’ve seen this picture too many times. And I’d give this credit, if I knew who that should be. But still. Isn’t he perfect. Perfect Andrew Garfield green post!
Flora continued to look upward at the ceiling, but glanced back down at Andrew when he claimed it wasn’t a masterpiece. She faked a hurt face and gasped, “That’s insulting.” She told him, sitting up and smiling. “No, I don’t write. Ever. I don’t even read.” She told him, shrugging. She didn’t feel like telling him about her reading of muggle fiction when she was younger. “But, let’s see if you’re any better.” She smirked reaching across him to grab his book, but came a bit short. She realized she was leaning across his lap when she smiled a bit, knowing he’d probably blush again. She reached further until she grabbed it, turning to look at him, “Thanks.” She winked pulling back and pretending nothing happened, searching through the book again. She ignored the odd feeling in her stomach.
He swallowed thickly as she leaned across his lap, he could already smell the sweet scent of her hair wafting up to tickle his nose. He wanted to lean down at bury his face in her hair to smell it all he wanted, but he figured she would find that a little, just a little disturbing. He felt a dull blush find its way up his cheekbones, and he swore internally. He never blushed this much, let alone, alone with a girl. He looked away when she winked, only to find the dull blush becoming clearer and burning up his face. He was blinking rapidly, and turned back with a neutral expression on his face, hoping that his blush settled down. He watched her flip through his book, Andrew’s heart thumping dully in his chest, and pounding in his ears.
Your name: if you don’t know by now
Character desired: Grant Page
Character’s birthday: 24 April
Face claim: Eric Balfour
Any prior RP experience?: sry
Blood status: mudblood yes
What do you ship?: Grant/Breaking da rulez!
Trading Umbitch for him oh yano
yes okay url etc
NO UMBITCH D:
we will miss you and your ulterior bitchyness
Flora sighed in relief and unclenched her muscles as Andrew played it off. She wasn’t an awkward person ordinarily, so this was a bit different than normal for her. She smirked at him and grabbed the pen, biting the end of it as she thought of what to write. She’d used to read muggle fiction growing up (though she would never tell someone that, not even Hestia) so she knew a lot about writing styles and such. She remembered something she’d tried to write when she was younger, and tried copying it for memory. She switched all her misspellings for more proper words and grammar, hoping it seemed good. She never wrote anymore - it was just a passing fancy. She handed him the paper and turned around, laying on her back so she could look at him. “Voila, my masterpiece.” She smirked, looking up at the ceiling.
"Well," curled off the tip of his tongue, and took the parchment cautiously. His eyes scanned over the paper, widening a bit. "Do you write in your free time?" He asked, beginning to chew the bottom of his pen. "It isn’t terrible, I guess," He said with a slight mischievous tone, running a hand through his hair. "But I wouldn’t call it a masterpiece," He added slyly, hoping to capture her attention. He didn’t even know how to flirt, but he found himself going through what he was saying - trying not to sound like a boy with half a brain.
Which is why going and not going is pretty much the same thing.
And I guess I’m too lazy to find some dressing gowns and waltz over to the ball, don’t really bother for who’s with who or who’s wearing what.
Good to hear - at least I’m not the only wallflower.
You’re right, though. It’d probably be the talk of the town by tomorrow.