The definition of Charming was someone who was very pleasant or attractive.
Harry Styles was both.
If Leah had to choose someone to embody the word Charming, it would be him. It made sense that the peers at school took notice of that as well. He c...
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FEB, 2017
The only sounds that ricocheted between us, were the noises of quiet scraping from our forks against our plates as we silently ate our banana cake together.
Neither of us uttered more than a few single words to each other when we decided to open our mouths to speak. Compliments towards the cake had been our topic of conversation since I came outside about 10 minutes ago.
Although we weren't friends now, the silence between us felt horrible. When we were younger, there was never a moment that went by where we weren't talking or doing something together. We didn't have gaps in time that were filled with awkward silences like we did right now.
The tension between us was palpable, and it wasn't the good kind. The silence between us spoke masses, and yet, we had hardly uttered a few words. In many ways, I miss the easy lulls in conversations that we used to have. The pleasant silence where we just sat there and enjoyed each other's presence.
It's hard to miss something that you know you'll never have again.
The silence between us wasn't comfortable now, it was far from it. We were stagnant in our conversation, and it seemed like the days for having those easy flowing talks were left behind a long time ago, only ever being so simple when we were young and naive.
I guess that over time and as you grow older, what they say must be true; comfortable silence is overrated.
We were two different people now. Two people that didn't know each other anymore, and I had to remind myself of that fact when the memories came flooding through like a dam that had just built up and exploded.
We were two ghosts sitting in the place of the people that we once knew.
I look up when I hear a clatter come from Harry. He had put his fork down onto his plate as he finished his slice of cake and his eyes were trained on the few crumbs that were left there. He was staring at them intensely with a furrow in his brows while his left arm was propped up so that his fingers could gently pinch at his pink lips.
Even now, I still wonder what he thinks about.
I wonder how his thought processes worked and what ran through his head every single day. He had always been far too fascinating for his own good, but since I became a ghost in his life, I was even more intrigued to know what ran through his mind. Why he made the choices that he did - if there was ever a reason that stemmed beyond just not wanting to be my friend anymore.
I also thought that it was interesting to see that his mannerisms were still mostly the same. He still seemed polite, the life of the party, and all of his little quirks that were some of my favourite things to watch when we were younger - he still seemed to embody them all.
Like when he picked at his cuticles when he was nervous or anxious.
Or when he had a sheepish reaction to something, he grasped at the back of his neck.
