For Hikari Riku, who was one of the first people who I admired for their writing. Even if it was fanfiction.
You're an amazing author, even when the stories really aren't stories but drabbles.
And even if you don't like this pairing and prefer Harry/Draco, this is still for you because your fics inspired it, toa certain degree.

Noticing

He pretends not to notice.

He pretends not to notice the way I look at him.
He shifts a bit and looks uncomfortable, but not once has he lifted his gaze and looked at me when I stare.
He turns and chats with his friends, picks up a book and reads, hell, he's even been known to do his homework to avoid returning my stare, to avoid looking up and seeing me.

It's funny. The fact that we share a dorm hadn't bothered me until I realised it meant that though we sleep an arm's length away from each other I'll never get to touch him.

I do not like Quidditch, but it must be the best game ever invented if he loves it. And so, through him, I love it too, but not for the same reasons. Although I do not play it, I adore Quidditch season, because after matches I'm allowed to touch him. Comfort him if they've lost, give him back his motivation, and hug him, clap him on the back if they've won.

I prefer it when they win, because he hugs me back.

I would melt into his arms if I could, when he hugs me. It's the best feeling in the world. The way he smells – of grass, which is strange, as he's always up in the air on his broom, and sweat and excitement, of Quidditch, which is another reason for me to like it – the way we fit perfectly together, the way he gives a sigh – just a small breath, but I know it's there, I can feel it ruffling my hair, tickling my neck, and that means more than he could possibly know.

I know I'm not supposed to do any of that, but it just makes him more irresistible.

And yet I'll never be good enough for him. I'm just the goofy bookworm with glasses. But sometimes, just sometimes, I hope that perhaps...

I pretend not to notice the way he looks at me too.