Exile || Sebastian Sallow

13 | A Perfectly Good Heart

"One thing you can always count on
is that hearts change."
- Hayao Miyazaki
(Howl's Moving Castle)

───•~❉᯽❉~•───

13 | A Perfectly Good Heart

Belle's Perspective

Scratching of quills on parchment, rainwater bubbling in large pewter cauldrons, and flames of blue and orange sizzling underneath.

My anxiety might as well be brewing inside these cauldrons because sweat beaded down my forehead, not from the humidity and suffocating silence from everyone, but because I needed to ask Sebastian something. Even with my hair tied up, I still felt hot.

The Slytherin stood right in front of me and he wouldn't even pay attention to me.

I mean, rightfully so, but still! I've been calling his name for the last minute!

"Seb-" Professor Sharp coughed to signal the 'No talking rule!', but I kept going, my voice lowered even more. "Sebastian," I called over the steam of my cauldron.

Sebastian clicked his tongue, which he often did when in intense concentration. His hazel eyes were glued to his recipe book. He nodded, not hearing me at all, then began crushing porcupine quills.

"Pssttt, Sebastian," I whispered again.

And again, he ignored me. That, or he truly didn't hear me. I wouldn't be surprised if it was the first one.

I grunted under my breath, my eyes scanning around the classroom. No one was speaking, too busy with their potions. Not even Garreth, whose face was turning as red as his hair from the stress of brewing.

Professor Sharp tasked us with a challenging one: a Wound-Cleaning Potion. But I'd already read ahead and strategized so I didn't have much difficulty brewing it.

So, while I understood why Sebastian was completely ignoring me, it was annoying for him to pretend I very much did not exist right in front of him.

I waited for another few seconds, waiting for an opening so I could speak again where I wouldn't be caught.

He stood so aggravatingly with glistening freckled cheeks, and messy Slytherin robes which I knew smelled of ocean breeze and fresh parchment. His hair, curled at the tips from humidity, falling into place just above his eyes.

My heart gave a wild thump at the sight-brown hair, like rich soil that glistened with scarlet under sunlight. It swayed softly with every swivel of his head, and....Why did it seem as though I should know what it was like to run my hands through them? As if-

"Quit staring," Sebastian murmured, eyes still on his book.

I pinched my arm at my reminiscing and grimaced. Why would I even think that?! I wish he'd never given me his bloody, cursed, good and perfectly smelling robe, and that he didn't have such good hair, and-

I scoffed with a clear of my throat, then whispered, "Oh, you so are paying attention to me. But not when I've been bloody calling you for the past-"

"You admit you were staring then?" He looked up and half-grinned, arrogance twinkling in his eyes.

"W-what? Oh, shut up." Wishing I could Depulso his arse off this classroom right now. Out the window. Into the Black Lake!