The environment I was surrounded in was the same as every other Friday night. Dim ambiance, painfully loud music, and a continuos odour of sweat and smoke drifting throughout the flat.
Some People lounged lazily on the couch and balcony whilst others were milling about, dancing or playing beer pong with drinks or joints in their hands. Myself on the other hand, I preferred to stand against the wall, partially guarding my room and partially observing the crowd.
My eyes scanned over the large amount of people as I took a drag from my cigarette.
Some people look familiar, but most don't.
Charlotte hates when I smoke inside the flat but I hate when she hosts parties so I figure I earned the right to smoke inside considering she still hosts parties even when I protest.
A new crowd of people come every weekend into our mediocre apartment, and every weekend I do the same thing; smoke and guard my room from drunk intruders.
My eye land on Charlotte, she is currently sipping on her drink whilst talking to a blonde with glasses. Charlotte has been my friend since we were in Grade 2. I know practically everything about her from her favourite month of the year to her favourite underwear brands.
She's stayed with me throughout everything and now we share an appartment together since we both didn't want to live on university residence.
My eyes continue to sweep the living room whilst I take another drag from my cigarette, feeling the smoke rush down into my lungs, I slowly exhale, my eyes finally landing.
I've seen him before, around campus, but I've never been in such a close proximity to him.
His long hair falls in loose curls on his shoulders, the light from the lamp beside him giving his bright eyes a certain glow, his face is soft, but his features are sharp. He is sitting down in the corner of the futon, occasionally puffing from a cigarette. My eyes inspect every inch of his appearance, from his slightly large nose too his shiny golden boots, I glance back at his eyes and I'm surprised to find them staring back at me. I don't break eye contact because a part of me is scared I will never make eye contact again, and apparently he has that fear aswell because we continue to stare at eachother, part of me wants to go up to him, part of me fears rejection, but my eyes don't stray, that is until a drunken couple attempts to open the door to my room. That's when I break the eye contact. I mentally curse at the drunken couple for interrupting our eye contact.
"You can't go in there" I swiftly shut my bedroom door and send the drunken couple a glare.
"Why nooot" the blonde girl whines whilst her partners hands crawl over her body.
I furrow my eyebrows slightly. Drunk people are difficult to deal with.
"It's my room. If you want to fućk just go to your dorm for gods sake" I roll my eyes slightly as the male whispers something into the blondes ear, and without another complaint, they disappear back into the crowd.
I make my way back to my wall, my eyes raking the room to see if I can find him again, but he's gone.
I let out a small sigh as I throw my cigarette butt into a decorative vase on the small table beside me.
I attempt to close my eyes, block out the noise and for a few minutes it works. I escape to my own reality until I'm distracted by the warmth being fanned onto the back of my neck.
"Hey angel" a deep voice tainted with an accent runs through my ears.
I open my eyes, adjusting them to the dim light, and then I turn to face the owner of the deep accented voice.
It's him.
Green eyes blazing into mine.
I thought I appreciate his features before but I was sorely deprived.
I can appreciate everything about him now,
His pigmented lips, the small traces of stubble on his upper lip and near his chin, his furrowed brow and his soft pale skin.
His lips turned upwards slightly and I realize I was staring for a bit too long.
What did he say again? Oh right, hey angel.
"My names not angel" the words stumbled out of my mouth before I can think and I can feel my cheeks heat up slightly.
"You look like one" I watch his lips move as he talks, intrigued with how pink they are.
"Is that a good thing?" I look down at my outfit, which consisted of nothing but a flowy white dress and a pair of underwear.
"Yes, I can't stop staring at you." He spoke softly, still maintaining eyecontact.
"I can't stop staring at you either" I admit, biting down on my lip slightly. It was true, everything about him seems impossible. I've never seen such beauty up close.
"What is your name" he prodded, cautiously inching a tiny bit forward.
"Asteria"
His lips turn upwards again into an intrigued smile.
"So you are no angel at all then, mother of Hecate"
To be honest I'm suprised he knew the meaning behind my name. (A/n, Hecate is the goddess if necromancy. She's a witch)
"My mother was a hippy." I chuckled softly. I do like my name, but most people think of it as bizarre.
"I'm Harry"
I smiled to myself. He looks like a Harry, the name suits him.
"I guess your mum named you after the mop on your head" I quickly cover my mouth with my hand, my eyes widening slightly.
Why aren't I thinking before speaking?
To my suprise, Harry lets out a loud laugh, tilting his head back slightly.
My lips immediatly turn upwards into a smile once his laugh hit my ears. I've never heard such a pleasant noise before.
"I like your hair, I didn't mean it as an insult" I fidgeted slightly, embarrassed at my own words.
His eyes met mine again, spreading sunshine throughout my body with his gaze, I could look at him for hours and not get bored.
"Show me your room" he smiles again, eyes crinkling slightly, deep dimples forming in his cheeks.
Reluctance hits me when I hear his question.
I like to keep to myself, call me an introvert. My room is my room, I can't remember the last time someone other than Charlotte has been in my room.
I feel a large hand settle softly on my cheek and I look up at him again, sunshine making it's way back into my mind and suddenly my reluctance fades to the back of my head.
Harry's pov••
I follow her down the narrow hall. She is magnificent, her soft brown hair sways with every step she takes, her cream coloured dress swaying with her hair. I watch as her bare feet pad through the hall to the door she defended earlier.
She pauses infront of it. Her hands falling to her side.
I'm tempted to tell her that I can explore her room another time but my curiosity is tearing me apart.
I place my hand softly on her shoulder and immediately she turns the knob and pushes the door open just so only she and I can squeeze through the space.
As soon as I enter, I'm in a daze.
My eyes travel each wall, each corner, each table.
In the corner of the room is her bed. The sheets are a dark blue with an array of white paint splatters on them. There is a mirror beside her bed allowing the moonlight to beam into the room giving it an hauntingly natural look.
Her walls are covered in tapestries and small sketches of flowers and herbs.
Her desk is covered in pencils and different art tools that I have never seen before, sketchbooks are scattered under her desk and i have to stop myself from delving into her creations, her cupboards are adorned with crystals and greenery, potted ferns and mosses spilling over the edge of the cupboard and into her clothing storage space, but what takes my breath away is the ceiling.
I walk slowly towards the bed and sit down, craning my head upwards to get a better view. The ceiling is painted jet black (a/n: heart) but on top of the black is specs of white, lines connecting the specs, symbols and signs connecting with the stars.
"You painted this?" I enquire, my eyes glued to the ceiling.
"Yes" I hear her soft voice reply.
"It's a star chart" I turn to look at her, standing beside her desk, she is glowing as the moonlight radiates off of her pale skin. I have never been so close to this much beauty in my lifetime. Her grey eyes shimmer slightly and I can't help but study her face for the millionth time tonight.
I admire the way her too lip is larger than her bottom, the way her small freckles peak through her makeup on her nose. Her skin looks like ghostly white silk, and her smile is brighter than the moon.
"It's beautiful" you're beautiful.
•••••••
Here's chapter one, should I continue? I'm kinda liking where this is going and I have ideas ( tbh this will probs flop tho)
