the journal - h.s.

54

[harry's pov]

A smile spread on my lips at her short rapid response, as I had just stepped off the bus and read her text. I would get a chance to read her thoughts? She would actually let me? Was she starting to trust me then? My heart felt awfully warm, though it was minus degrees. The wind tore wildly in my hair and I could already feel the stinging in my cheeks. Even my lips hurt when smiling because of that damn coldness as if it was a Siberian winter. But I couldn't stop beaming widely and feel like laughing every damn second.

Insanity. That was what this was.

The street was dark and only the street lamps illuminated the one thousand crystals, which glittered in the frost on the pavement. It was like a beauty beyond reach - untouchable - and I knew from experience, that trying to pick up the beautiful frost crystals was impossible. How many times as a little kid had I not been disappointed to see how the beauty died at my warm curious touch?

But right now I was just appreciating the beauty - as I had done too as a kid. I was in awe and couldn't stop comparing them to her, though she didn't disappear under my touch. On the other hand her cheeks would burn, her eyes, those green blue eyes would grow so alive if I let my warm fingers run over her soft warm skin. It was amazing to see the reaction a simply touch could withdraw from her.

I quickened my pace with my hand fisted tightly around the phone, which was now like a key to her thoughts.

While others hurried through the streets hiding away in their nests of scarves and warm clothing - only occasionally with narrowed eyes skimming out at the road before them, I walked with that stupid smile plastered on my lips. Out in the open with flushed cheeks and wild impossible hair and my every thought with her.

What had she written in the journal? In my journal?

[amber's pov]

With my eyes on the bottom of the coffee cup, while wondering when Harry would turn up, I sat very still listening to the sounds in the coffee shop. How the coffee machine softly hummed once in awhile, how light chatter was heard in the other corner from three young people. How I could hear my co-worker put away some glasses.

And then that sound came which I had waited for; the door opening. With an ocean of cold air streaming in over the coffee shop and me too - sitting here in a navy striped shirt and blue jeans. My head snapped up at the sound. The last time the door had opened I had been so sure it had been him - but it had been some stressed woman coming in to get a late take away latte.

With new hope in my heart I held my breath and let my gaze flicker to that very spot at the door.

And just as I had imagined his hair was wild from the wind, his cheeks glowing, his eyes piercing green while searching the small room. He had a hectic red color on his neck too and I could see his one hand on the door handle was slightly red from the cold even. My heart stopped for a second, as he stood there looking over the room.

As his eyes finally settled on me after the almost wild, frantical search of the place - his pink lips parted and showed off the perfect row of white teeth, which formed into an unbeatable smile. So warm and sudden it matched the color of his cheeks, which witnessed of how the blood was rushing through his system.

To my surprise he was wearing a scarf today, though it wasn't really tied very tightly - merely casually flung around his neck a couple of times. As he started crossing over to me he started taking it off like some damn runway model.

I slowly came to life strangely stunned with his sudden appearance and the following beauty. He seemed so alive with those still burning red cheeks and wide grin. Eyes pearly green.