the underdog // h.s.

{ one; infatuation }

h a r r y ;

     She walked with her head low, her arms clutching her books quite tightly, as if someone would come out of nowhere and steal it from her grasp. Her hair was adorned in a beanie with the logo of some band I've heard of but never listened to -- the Misfits. Her shirt was torn and tattered in all the right areas, 'UNDR-GR0UND' in large, bold letters, the cherry red letters complimenting the dark black. Upon her feet were combat boots, looking as worn as her face -- which had dark circles under her eyes and a bit of acne here and there. But I found her absolutely amazing; each and every flaw made her so much more realistic than all the other Barbie dolls in this school. She was real. But she was the underdog.

A high-pitched voice broke my trance, causing me to furrow my brows in confusion. "Harry," the voice spoke, and it took all my might to avert my eyes from the small girl with the beanie. "You've been staring at the poor girl for the past thirty minutes." I shrugged, unable to reply, fearing that if I even opened my mouth, I would list off all the small details that no one seemed to notice about the girl. Then again, no one knew any sort of details about her. Even the teachers forget her name (and sometimes, her existence) every once in a while.

"Let's go," Scarlett mumbled, her soft hands intertwining with mine. I silently bid the Underdog a goodbye, though I'm sure she didn't even notice my heavy gaze. I wouldn't blame her; the book in her grasp was quite interesting. Kept my attention for the longest time.

Soon enough, the bell rang, signaling lunch. A small smile appeared on my lips as I thought about all the possibilities that could happen within the hour. I could walk up to the quiet girl and introduce myself, and maybe start a friendship with her. Then maybe I could break her out of her shell, and we could go hang out somewhere -- anywhere. We could catch a movie, head off to the mall, or just sit inside my car and talk about anything. Her favourite movies, her favourite foods, her favourite bands...

My neck bent so my eyes could stay glued on her, but Scarlett had pulled me outside the school doors and into the student parking lot. Shit, I forgot we were going out for lunch today. I forced out a small smile at the blonde in front of me, her reciprocating my gesture. I opened the door for her and made sure she was safely buckled in before heading over to my side and starting the car up.

"Where are we off to today?" She asked sweetly, her fingers finding mine. I glanced down at her hands and a genuine smile appeared on my lips. "I was hoping Auntie May's diner. I wanted to go down memory lane."

"Your wish is my command, my queen," I smirked, which earned a playful smack on the shoulder. "I'm kidding, baby. I've been meaning to take you there anyway. Auntie May was complaining about not seeing us as often."

Scarlet arched a brow and turned to look at me as I started to drive over to the familiar diner where my first date with Scarlett was. "Oh?" She mumbled, running a hand through her perfectly straightened blonde locks. We sat in a comfortable silence, save the radio playing some Christmas songs (though it was only mid-November, but it's never too early for Christmas songs in my opinion), for a few minutes, until she spoke. "I love you, Harry."

Without hesitation, I replied. "I love you too, Scar." 

☾ ❁ — ❁ — ❁ ☽

I was infatuated with her. I couldn't help but wonder what it'd be like if she were lying next to me rather than this beautiful girl. As much as I loved Scarlett, I couldn't help but steal glances at Brookelle. But then I quickly realised something. I was to her what she was to everyone else in the school: invisible. Though she tried and tried, she just couldn't make her way to the top. Maybe it was because she was so original, rather than getting sucked into what all the other girls were wearing. Maybe because she was just so different, and people weren't used to that yet. Whatever it may be, I don't mind. I quite enjoy who she is.