"Who's that?" Her eyes linger on the boy's form, walking passed as if noticing other people wasn't on his agenda for that day. [Y/N]'s friend, Iris, is fixing her lipstick while looking at herself in the mirror she decided to pin up in her locker.
"Who? Oh, he's apparently an exchange student from the UK, seems to keep to himself," Iris simply states, going back to lining her lips with the ruby red. [Y/N] nods in acknowledgement, her eyes still trained on the boy in all black walking down the hallway.
"Does he have a name?" Curiosity laces itself into her voice and it isn't until he's out of sight that [Y/N] looks back at her friend who is slamming her locker shut.
"Not one worth mentioning,"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means he's bad news... He's apparently already hooked up with Felicity Grayson, and she hasn't been in school for the entirety of two weeks," Iris is talking in a hushed whisper as they walked to their next, shared class. Felicity Grayson was the girl that most boys wanted everything to do with and that other girls wanted to be friends with. She was sweet to an extent- a very limited extent that only reached out to her close friend group and the guy she wanted to be with for that week.
"How does that have any correlation to the UK boy apparently being bad news?" [Y/N] asks, keeping pace with her friend who seemed to want to drop the subject of the boy who has yet to be named.
"He's just bad news, and I think that you should just stay in your lane," Iris's eyes narrow just a bit and [Y/N] raises an eyebrow at the unusual tone. Iris was typically the level headed one, kept her emotions in check nonstop. She was the one who didn't let her emotions seep into her tone unless necessary, and that's when something clicked for [Y/N].
"What, d'you like him?" It's a simple questions, meaning there should be a simple answer. However, Iris just bites her lip, not making eye contact before mumbling that they should just get to their last class of the day. The next hour was a blur of chemistry and the end of that class really couldn't've come any sooner. Next thing [Y/N] knows- she's being bumped and shoved in the hallway, everyone trying to escape the main building at once. The slew of people are either taller than her or they're the same height and it's almost too easy for her to be shoved hard enough that she's almost going hurling into the arms of someone else.
"Sorry-"
"Woah there, you alright, love?" It's cliché but [Y/N] would be lying if she said that it felt like the world just slowed down around her. She got caught staring up into green like grass eyes, and deep set dimples. It takes her a moment to compose herself; his strong hands are holding onto her biceps while her hands are gripping his forearms for deer life. His hair is curly beyond belief and she's soon moving to quickly detach herself from him.
"Uh- yeah, sorry about that,"
"No worries, I would never complain about a pretty little thing like yourself tumbling into my arms," His voice is deep, gravely, and slow and she'd be dumb to think that it wouldn't make her feel something in her core. The rustle traffic of the hallway has died down by now, and [Y/N] is still looking at the boy whose accent could make anyone quiver.
"Name's Harry," It's just asking for trouble, when she accepts the hand he holds out for her to shake when she's finished smoothing herself out. She takes his hand, almost bashfully saying her name in return for an introduction. It's a firm shake before he's telling her that he'll see her around, kissing her knuckles and then reluctantly letting her hand go. He walks backwards for a few steps, sending her a wink and then turning to disappear through the school doors.
What just happened?
...
It had been almost a week since [Y/N] went practically toppling into Harry's arms in the middle of the hallway. Since then, she's been noticing him in her circles more and more often. She quickly caught onto him not being a big talker, and it was intriguing to see the way he'd act in class. He kept his head down for the most part and just minded his own business. However, sometimes there'd be moments where he'd ask for a pencil and maybe his fingers would linger on hers for a little longer than normal. There'd be moments of stolen glances. Saying that tension was building and that Iris was visibly becoming jealous was an understatement.
