Rediscovery
Summary: He knew her from once before. But small encounters have a way of fading into the abyssal regions of our mind. That is until their second meeting makes him rediscover himself and perhaps she as well.
Oh yeah. This isn't an AU. Stick around to try to figure things out.
I remember the first time I saw her.
It was her laugh that carried sweetly in the wind that made my head turn. To see a smile on her lips and her eyes twinkling with mirth as she talked about utter nonsense to one of her friends. Her hair would bounce up and down as she walked and I remember just admiring the brown waves from a distance.
Since that day she walked with grace on that humid summer, I couldn't seem to forget about her.
At first I thought that she was just an interesting aspect to my day. Yeah, I saw a pretty girl walk past me. Never heard from her again. The end.
I thought her smile would turn dull in my memory and eventually fade away along with those formulas I learned a while ago. She and my math skills were to be a part of my short term memory and I would hear nothing more about them.
Especially during the summer hols.
But I dreamt of her the next day. It was nothing special, just her sitting across from me looking older than her thirteen years. Her face was drawn with premature lines, squinty eyes staring at me so intensely while her hands shook...
It frightened me as my imagination distorted her comely lips to colorless and, if not chapped, bleeding. Her hair not vibrant but hanging dully at her shoulders, curls crazily scratching at her pale face....
I dismissed it by telling myself it was just nerves, I ate something fucked up and this was just my subconscious telling me that's how I'll look if I snort that cocaine Jeff handed me yesterday.
I merely turned around, entwined in my bed covers, and begged sleep to strike me again. It did and she faded away as I planned.
Months became years and I was fine. Forgetting about this and that, encountering puberty... Kissing a few pretty girls that flaunted their skin and asked me to touch them in ways I could only dream those few nights I had spare time. Ones where I would pull out one of my father's hidden magazines, memorizing the delicious curves of the woman on the cover. Imagining the feel of her sultry lips whispering against my aroused skin, telling me it was time to let go.
My hand would not hesitate following her sensual voice. Oh, I appreciated my extensive imagination greatly. As I would take out the sheets and tell my stepmother that the stains were from my science experiment gone wrong.
Her long red plastic-like nails would pinch my cheeks and her voice would shriek that I should leave this to her. Get out more since my grades were already top notch. I could do with meeting some girls down the street. Yeah that one that was eyeing you after soccer practice? Take her to the cinema and see how it goes.
It was as I stepped out from the caged house did I mentally respond to her. That girl from down the street? Well... I already met her as her hands had lingered at the zipper of my pants. Her blonde hair hung like a veil over her coy face when she pulled down.
The memory jolted my hormones and recalled what she said we'd do in our next meeting. My head was in a whirl and I couldn't help but smile at the thought. Yeah, she was good with her tongue. I can only imagine her in a few years when she'll work on the seedy streets of London. Pretending she was Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman. Inwardly, I snickered.
By the time I traveled to ol' memory lane I found myself under her windowsill. A backpack plopped down my feet and her body sleeked down the drainage pipe. The moon cast a shoddy light on her and she nodded her head at me.
"Let's go."
I only tagged at her side. Her posture was erect as she dragged me along streets far beyond where we lived. Finally after walking for a quiet ten minutes she told me to wait here. Here, where we were in the middle of a prim street of some nice looking homes.
They were way better then the run-down ones that we lived in. My mouth opened to ask her about a query -- why the hell we were here -- when her finger pressed against my lips.
"Later."
With those two syllables she threw her bag into my hands and ran into one of the houses. Her flip flops making pattering noises against the pavement.
I clutched the bag tighter to my chest, looking over my shoulder. Merely praying that the local neighborhood police would not flash a flashlight in my direction, inquiring about my presence and whatever Sasha the future whore put in this gym bag.
I hardly thought that a couple of Care Bear plush toys were stacked there. No, this thing weighed a ton and... what was that? That sloshing noise...
After five minutes of standing in the middle of an unknown street I decided to try to be as inconspicuous as one can in these circumstances. My eyes scanned the quaint houses, so scrunched together. Not leaving many options on where to hide...
But those bushes over there looked pretty tall.
Quickly and not thinking about it, I ran. My body plunged itself near the mass and thorns scratched ugly blemishes that I can only feel. Pink, they were going to be pink gashes carved into my arms...
As a fresh breeze pierced through I gritted my teeth. My fingers made half moon crescents upon the palm of my hands. I dug them deeper as I admonished myself. Why did I listen to that tart?
Why did she leave me here with her belongings as if I was merely some forgotten doormat?
I was about to abandon my spot and yell at the bitch when a series of noises assaulted my ears.
Instantly, I stilled.
Perhaps they would have been low in volume but to me... they rung all too clearly and loudly.
Like a deer caught in headlights, I blinked at the unfamiliar and blinding light. Breathing wasn't something that was concerning me at the moment.
A door to the side opened half way through. Yellowish light poured out into the immaculate lawn and a shadow of a girl stretched out.
I shirked closer to the bush that had cut me so. Suddenly, that place looked welcoming as she stepped out. I could only make out a couple of her features through the twigs and branches and not to mention the poor quality of light.
Her posture was drooping in an odd way. Shoulders hunched over her quite petite frame. She seemed to be staring at her shoes for a while.
I could only watch as her eyes squeezed themselves painfully shut. Her hands grasped a pail filled with water. What she was doing with it in the first place when it was almost midnight, I could only wonder.
Her long fingers curled under the handle and with each squeeze she made I swore that the handle would come off quick.
My mouth just gaped as it didn't know what else to do.
After a few seconds of just doing that unseemly, her head suddenly shot upwards. I jumped in response and thwacked my arm on a tall sprinkler. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to refrain from startling the poor girl with some choice spoken four letter words.
Her eyes were moving quickly in their sockets as she scanned the black sky.
I stupidly followed her example. Trying to place whatever it was this weird girl was looking for.
But it seemed that "whatever" was not up there. She let out a guttural sound and hurled that pail right in my direction. My eyes opened themselves wide as I sidestepped the object. I only crouched away and continued to stare.
She shoved a hand in a pocket of her wasted jogging sweater. Her eyes... I could only feel the anger her stern face was emitting. I bet if I placed myself right in her vision I would burn away like the ants I placed under a magnifying glass did on humid days.
Her fingers plucked out a paper I could only describe as old. Something made of... parchment? My mind tried to remember what Professor Smith had blabbered on about the 18th century.
I could only rouse the memory of Nick and I making lewd insinuations of Smith's love for Jane Austen.
"James, reckon she grabs a copy of her tatty Pride and Prejudice book and gets off on it?" Nick asked me. I could only grin.
"Smith wanking? Nasty image... and it's right before lunch as well. But I bet she does, probably role plays between herself and that Drama prof."
Nick shook his head. "Nah it's with Alice. Why else is she the teacher's pet?"
"You're right!" I whispered loudly. "It's both of them!"
Both of us chortled as Nicole admonished us from behind.
"You blokes are, erg! That's so grotty!"
As can be said, I didn't really remember much of the 18th century. Just that that letter hanging off her fingers looked from it.
It was thick and yellowish with watered ink staining it slightly. Her handwriting appeared to be small and elegant. And from what I could see she wrote straight unlike yours truly.
But then she seemed to be the kind of girl that would train herself to write perfectly.
My eyes squinted to try to catch up on something written there. I was reminded that I needed to visit my optometrist sometime soon since my vision wasn't exactly 20/20.
Har...
More squinting. Fucking eyes.
Har - rry
Harry.
Who the hell is Harry?
And why would she write him like that? Have they ever heard of email?
Jane Austen Freaks.
Her fingers curled themselves tightly under the parchment until it crumpled into a ball. I could only think it was a waste of some expensive looking material. After all you couldn't find that all over the place.
She didn't seem to care. I shifted my feet to avoid the water easing its way through the grass and pavement. Grass was going to get muddy...
She looked down at her balled fist and seemed fascinated with it. Did she regret destroying it? I would be if I spent so much time making sure my words were abnormally straight and neat.
"One day."
Her eyes were painfully hard and her frame shook as her hand remained still.
I only inched closer, curious at what she was going to say next. Not at all caring about how my knee had sunk right into a wet spot.
She stopped and brought the parchment to her face. Limber fingers skidded to the corners of the folded paper. She pursed her lips and let her fingers tear through. They continued doing that at every corner until they could grab on to no more.
Pieces of it littered on her lawn like fallen debris. She just gave it one last glance and turned her back to it.
The pieces just rustled on the grass as a breeze came by. She crossed her arms across her chest and went in the door that was still open slightly.
I only stayed put until she left. My body slowly straightened itself up and I crossed to her lawn. Pushing the branches away, allowing me passage as Moses had commanded of the Red Sea.
After making sure to look over both ways in case she popped by and questioned why I was in her property, my hands picked up the piece nearest me instinctively. It was fairly large and a chunk of her scripture was contained in it.
Wiping off some of the mud off my fingers I snuck it in my pocket before I left. Hoping to find Sasha somewhere.
But as I started my way out I could only wonder what she meant...
A/N: No this isn't a AU. It picks off after OOTP but as you can see this is from an original character's POV. He came to me from a conversation I had with a reunited guy friend of mine that I haven't seen in ages. Our conversation was odd to say the least and some parts from the story were references from it. Like the prostitute is his half cousin. The character of James formed from our meeting and the story came to my mind. I chose to approach the fiction differently from my other works by writing in first person. Which by the way, I'm not use to at all! Hopefully you didn't notice that. ;) But it was great trying to think like this character which I find fascinating! Trying to get in his state of mind and making him so fond of profanity. Anyway thanks Nitya for checking it over and I hope you guys stick around. This might be 2-3 chappies long.
I won't blatantly point out why she/he did this, just look on how I describe the setting. Like why would she look at the sky with a letter in her hand?