Post by morethanacrush on Dec 17, 2007 11:39:10 GMT -5
SNOW DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I like to be productive in my snow days, so here you go I hope you like it....
Beautiful
“What do you mean: I didn’t mean it like that?!” Pomona Sprout raised her voice as her eyes widened with her expression. Her small fingers reached up and brushed her perfect brown curl that she had spent so much hard work on that afternoon out of her chocolate brown eyes.
She was staring at Christopher Williams, who gazed back at her with an almost bored, calm look in his own brown eyes. Pomona shook her head him in misunderstanding – tonight was supposed to be perfect. Tonight was supposed to be perfect. Pomona had spent so much hard work on picking out the perfect dress (it was green, and hugged her in all the right places) and getting her curly hair to look beautiful instead of untidy.
And Chris was just going to stand there, and tell her that she didn’t look good enough? Had she misunderstood him? she wondered. She couldn’t possibly have misunderstood the words that came out his mouth: “I thought I asked you to dress up nicely, and to actually do something with your hair? We’re going to a nice restaurant with nice people, now go and change out of those ratty clothes and do something useful with your hair.”
Each word that came out his mouth was more insulting than the first!
“I meant, Pomona that I was expecting a little more from you.” He narrowed his eyes, as he took a step closer to her, “We’re going to have dinner with the Minister’s son tonight – he’s an old friend. I was hoping that you would actually care enough to listen to me and look presentable tonight.” He shook his head and sighed. “Apparently not.”
Tears brimmed in her beautiful eyes, and she swallowed down the lump in her throat. She backed up against the wall of her rooms. She was shaking, as she glanced down at her black heels – Pomona hated heels – and then back up Chris, a single tear falling from one eye, down her cheek. Chris knew she didn’t have great self confidence – her mother died when she was young, and her father had found love again in a full bottle of firewhiskey. Her father took out all his pains on Pomona, leaving her with barely any positive self image. And now that she was turning forty next year, she knew she was reaching middle age for a witch. She was going to live alone for the rest of her life, until Chris came and swept her off her feet.
And she had told this to Chris, at least a hundred times. Why was he being so cruel to her?
She wasn’t sure if she expected her cheek to explode with pain. It didn’t come as a complete surprise – but she still wasn’t completely expecting it to happen. But it did, and as she turned her head back to face Chris, just as he was lowering his hand, she could see the disgust in his eyes for her.
*
Filius opened his door to see Pomona, looking absolutely gorgeous, crying. He stopped and stared at her, wanting to take her into his arms and calm her down, but unable to take his eyes off of her. Her curly brown hair was swept up into her signature bun, but the few curls left hanging down to fall on her collar bone and cheek bone, softened her face.
Her dress was the perfect shade of green, cinching her waist line, and showing off a minimal amount of her strong legs. But as his eyes finally took in her eyes, her face, he felt his heart snap in two. Her brown eyes were red, and beginning to puff up from wiping away her tears. Her cheeks were flushed, except for the slight discoloration on the one cheek, reaching towards her jaw line. Anger boiled over inside of him, as he finally was able to tear himself away from her, and lead her over towards the small couch in his living room.
She sat down and explained to him what had happened, finishing with an “I just didn’t want to be alone.”
He bit his lip. “He hit you?”
Pomona stopped. She hadn’t told him that part, but she subconsciously touched her cheek gently. “I hit him back.” She whispered.
“Pardon?” Filius asked, frowning and leaning closer to her.
She looked up and met his eyes; they were inches away from each other. “I hit him back.” She repeated, more clearly.
There was a pause, before he slowly started to smile, and then let out a booming laugh into the living room. He pulled her closer to him, and wrapped his arms around her protectively. She smiled back, albeit weakly, and allowed herself to ease into his arms. He kissed the top of her head, whispering softly into her hair, “Well I think you look beautiful, but you don’t really need to try so hard for that, now do you?”
She smiled, though he couldn’t see her, and snuggled in closer to him, deciding that she could forget about being “just friends” with him for one night. She heard him laugh through the air again, mumbling to himself one more time, “She hit him back… that’s beautiful.”
I like to be productive in my snow days, so here you go I hope you like it....
Beautiful
“What do you mean: I didn’t mean it like that?!” Pomona Sprout raised her voice as her eyes widened with her expression. Her small fingers reached up and brushed her perfect brown curl that she had spent so much hard work on that afternoon out of her chocolate brown eyes.
She was staring at Christopher Williams, who gazed back at her with an almost bored, calm look in his own brown eyes. Pomona shook her head him in misunderstanding – tonight was supposed to be perfect. Tonight was supposed to be perfect. Pomona had spent so much hard work on picking out the perfect dress (it was green, and hugged her in all the right places) and getting her curly hair to look beautiful instead of untidy.
And Chris was just going to stand there, and tell her that she didn’t look good enough? Had she misunderstood him? she wondered. She couldn’t possibly have misunderstood the words that came out his mouth: “I thought I asked you to dress up nicely, and to actually do something with your hair? We’re going to a nice restaurant with nice people, now go and change out of those ratty clothes and do something useful with your hair.”
Each word that came out his mouth was more insulting than the first!
“I meant, Pomona that I was expecting a little more from you.” He narrowed his eyes, as he took a step closer to her, “We’re going to have dinner with the Minister’s son tonight – he’s an old friend. I was hoping that you would actually care enough to listen to me and look presentable tonight.” He shook his head and sighed. “Apparently not.”
Tears brimmed in her beautiful eyes, and she swallowed down the lump in her throat. She backed up against the wall of her rooms. She was shaking, as she glanced down at her black heels – Pomona hated heels – and then back up Chris, a single tear falling from one eye, down her cheek. Chris knew she didn’t have great self confidence – her mother died when she was young, and her father had found love again in a full bottle of firewhiskey. Her father took out all his pains on Pomona, leaving her with barely any positive self image. And now that she was turning forty next year, she knew she was reaching middle age for a witch. She was going to live alone for the rest of her life, until Chris came and swept her off her feet.
And she had told this to Chris, at least a hundred times. Why was he being so cruel to her?
She wasn’t sure if she expected her cheek to explode with pain. It didn’t come as a complete surprise – but she still wasn’t completely expecting it to happen. But it did, and as she turned her head back to face Chris, just as he was lowering his hand, she could see the disgust in his eyes for her.
*
Filius opened his door to see Pomona, looking absolutely gorgeous, crying. He stopped and stared at her, wanting to take her into his arms and calm her down, but unable to take his eyes off of her. Her curly brown hair was swept up into her signature bun, but the few curls left hanging down to fall on her collar bone and cheek bone, softened her face.
Her dress was the perfect shade of green, cinching her waist line, and showing off a minimal amount of her strong legs. But as his eyes finally took in her eyes, her face, he felt his heart snap in two. Her brown eyes were red, and beginning to puff up from wiping away her tears. Her cheeks were flushed, except for the slight discoloration on the one cheek, reaching towards her jaw line. Anger boiled over inside of him, as he finally was able to tear himself away from her, and lead her over towards the small couch in his living room.
She sat down and explained to him what had happened, finishing with an “I just didn’t want to be alone.”
He bit his lip. “He hit you?”
Pomona stopped. She hadn’t told him that part, but she subconsciously touched her cheek gently. “I hit him back.” She whispered.
“Pardon?” Filius asked, frowning and leaning closer to her.
She looked up and met his eyes; they were inches away from each other. “I hit him back.” She repeated, more clearly.
There was a pause, before he slowly started to smile, and then let out a booming laugh into the living room. He pulled her closer to him, and wrapped his arms around her protectively. She smiled back, albeit weakly, and allowed herself to ease into his arms. He kissed the top of her head, whispering softly into her hair, “Well I think you look beautiful, but you don’t really need to try so hard for that, now do you?”
She smiled, though he couldn’t see her, and snuggled in closer to him, deciding that she could forget about being “just friends” with him for one night. She heard him laugh through the air again, mumbling to himself one more time, “She hit him back… that’s beautiful.”