Paranoia (Alastor Moody)

Chapter 8

For weeks, Alastor tried to get Natalie to talk to him. It was all he thought about-- all he talked about. He had gone to talk to Natalie at least three times a day, and each day yielded the same results; she offered a weak smile, then she would leave. It was making Alastor go insane-- he wanted to know why she refused to talk to him and he was going to find out if it was the last thing he did.

Because of this, Melissa broke up with him.

If he was being honest with himself, he didn't care. He never really cared about the relationship-- he had only agreed to it because he was tired of waiting for Natalie to realize how he felt about her.

The more and more he thought about, the more likely it was that she did know.

What if she knew, but was uncomfortable with it? Or maybe she just didn't want to be Alastor's friend anymore?

What if she liked him back?

No. Nobody liked Alastor, unless you count Melissa.

His hair was always a mess. He had downturned beady eyes that were too small for his face. He was too tall, too skinny. In his opinion, he was a walking string bean. Who could possibly find that remotely attractive?

Natalie did.

She thought he was the most wonderful person in the world. She adored his red hair--it was the most beautiful crimson color she had ever seen. And his eyes would always twinkle when he laughed. They were the darkest shade of brown she had ever seen, and it seemed as though they could see straight through her at times. She also quite liked his height. She thought it suited him well.

But she could never tell him. Not after she acted like such a fool.

It was too late for her to pretend like nothing was wrong, and she couldn't just tell him the real reason why she stopped talking to him. No, it was best if it continued on like this.