drawn - h.s.

xvii.

[harry’s pov]

I was tapping my finger on the steering wheel, though I couldn’t pay proper attention to the little country road or how the sky even now late in the evening was filled with a summer-blue light that I knew would only be gone for 4 hours time during the darkest part of the night. The grey road in front of me was a blur where images of her white dress danced; smiling, carefree. I made a turn and from the corner of my eye the vision of the white dress collapsed under the weight of dark creatures. Straight road; dancing dress. New swing around a corner; collapse of blissful whiteness. I shook my head and tightened my grip on the wheel.

“There’s not anything we can do,” her exhausted voice had echoed while I had stared back at her in disbelief in the small kitchen.

“So please Harry; I know Ellie has something about her persona, something quite enchanting isn’t it?” The mother smiled with an elegance of gratitude that only the most humble of artists mastered to posses when talking about their masterpieces. “She’s always had that sparkle, even when she was a little girl. She doesn’t acknowledge it herself, but it’s so clear to me and my husband. Be careful dear, be careful.”

I had furrowed my brows in silenced response; but didn’t she realize? I was already deeply influenced by whatever spell the little nymphet in her white summer dress managed to weave over my summer tanned, flower kissed self. I felt lightheaded, lighthearted as my eyes drifted to Ellie’s figure in the young summer night, her feet in the healthy green grass outside.

It didn’t seem right; it didn’t seem fair.

I had been stunned into complete numbness after Mrs. Parker’s short explanation and following warning directed at my heart. Ellie returned in the same heartbeat not taking notice of what had just passed in the air she entered; what darkness had been shared. My eyes had wandered over her as a child watching magic; there was no proof, no signs of it - only her summer light, delicate spirit. Her shy smile stretched slowly the way a rose opens its petals by the touch of sunshine. Her cheeks were still flourished flushed by the heated summer and the heart accelerating fact that I was staring back at her in complete awe and wonder.

Mrs. Parker had left us quietly as Ellie had handed her the remaining items from the table outside.

“Hmm, can I show you something?” Ellie asked in her angel soft voice, so quiet like she knew there was no reason for shouting in the world if your words were really of great matter. Eyes had escaped to the ground before flickering up to meet mine. Breathless sight. Dark eyelashes framing glittering soft magic. Beauty concealed in those intriguing almond shapes.

I lifted my hand from the steering wheel and led it through my hair in a desperate manner; it wasn’t fair. The memories from this lovely summer evening wouldn’t let me be so I at least could try and follow Mrs. Parker’s advice. Ellie had me so deeply enchanted by her ember of life in its promising bright shell, telling that anything was possible.

I had nodded in reply to the beautiful girl sure she was as alluring as The Sirens had been to the sailors in the legends; and at this point I was fairly convinced if her plan was indeed to kill me I would have followed her headlessly anyway without any thought of doubt. But this girl was no killer; quite the opposite, it seemed like the way she spun around on her heel and let her fingertips travel playfully, lightly over the lucky furniture we passed was brought more color and caring attention. She hummed softly as we passed through the house. I couldn’t help chuckle over her light way of life, “what?” She had spun around to watch me suspiciously; her eyes demanding and wide as the innocence of an angel.

“Nothing,” my crooked smile told otherwise leaving her deeply unconvinced; we were in the hallway, a small window halfly opened let some of the evening breeze in over us. I could hear the television in the livingroom where her dad and grandfather were chatting happily, the sound of running water from the kitchen.