Selcouth [G.W]

chapter 21

Basorexia (n.) The overwhelming desire to kiss.

millie P.O.V

Do you ever feel as if you're not in control of your body? like it has a mind of its own? I meant to tell George Goodnight. I meant to leave and hopefully sleep off the weird feeling I felt in the field. Instead, I'm walking to the kitchen to get food.

I'm not even fucking hungry. I'm not upset at my body for betraying me since I actually didn't want to leave but I should have. Were no longer soaking wet thanks to me. We left our wands in our dorms but I could do small spells without mine. Mother demanded that I learned.

It's still cold and it only got colder from the roaring rain outside. So instead of sleeping soundly- well attempting to sleep soundly I'm holding my body tightly trying to hold in the warmth I'm in desperate need of.

Idiot.

I still have Georges jumper on so it isn't helping the feeling in my stomach. Every time I squeezed my body his aroma would graze my nose giving me a sense of something I've never felt. I'm not complaining, I've always liked the way George smells.

I usually never smelled it so closely given I don't like people in close proximity to me. Which is why me hugging George in the field confuse me. I swear I didn't mean too. Again it's like my body had a mind of its own. Before I even understood what was happening my arms were wrapped around his waist breathing in his warm amber, cinnamon musk scent.

"What's your favorite color?" George asks breaking me from scolding my body for its incapability to listen to me.

I frown but answer, " Yellow." He's been asking me questions about myself since we started walking. I thought I would feel discomfort but I don't. I trust him, and besides he's not asking anything major they're all pretty basic.

"Yellow? really?" He exclaims, surprised.

Yellow. a color that brightens any darker shade, fills any dark space. Yellow, a light in the dark. Yellow the sun, a color that can hurt your eyes but draw you in. A dangerous yet appealing color, a tragedy of hope. Yellow the color that can whisk away any dark and treacherous space and brighten it, enhance it. Yellow, a color I love but have never worn nor experienced.

I softly chuckle, "Yes really, yellow, it's a lovely color." I tell him blaming my favoritism on the shade rather than the meaning. Even if I wanted to explain- which I don't, I'm sure he wouldn't understand and only look at me weirdly.

"what's your favorite color?" I ask hugging his hoodie closer to me, selfishly breathing in his natural scent.

What? I like things that smell good.

George glances at me shrugging, "Brown," He answers nonchalantly.

My brows shoot up an exaggerated laugh escaping my lips in shock, "Brown? out of all the colors. Why?" I was truly surprised.

I would think it would be something much brighter than brown. Something like blue or red possibly neon colors certainly not brown.

he shakes his head chuckling, "Brown is underrated, it's perfect for everything." George defends smugly.

"I supposed," I mutter laughing softly.

We finally made it to the kitchen door George sped in front of me before I could grab the handle opening and holding it open for me. Bowing down dramatically "After you milady," he grins.

I roll my eyes, chuckling, "Oh how kind of you, good sir," I muse walking in, him following behind me.

The dim kitchen lights flicker on the rain becoming muffled from the closed door, "What do you want to eat?" George asks from behind me.