13: Noah

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            It took two days of being in bed, a whole box of three-ply extra soft tissues and watching Game of Thrones before Noah started feeling better. As soon as his nose started to clear, he pulled on a jacket and drove to the library.

            He missed Leigh.

            It was only twelve in the afternoon, so he wasn't expecting Leigh to be there until school was over. So when he saw her sitting cross legged at her table, hair tied into a messy knot at the top of her head, wearing pyjama pants and his jumper, he couldn't help but grin.

            Noah made his way to his table three seats away and continued to smile. Because her hair was tied up, her neck was bare, exposing the small, crescent moon birthmark at the base of her hairline. He wondered if anyone else noticed it. Noah secretly wished no one did. It made him feel like he knew Leigh better than anyone else; as if she had allowed him to be aware of the small blemish on her skin. Noah wanted to know her every flaw and default; acknowledge and appreciate every imperfection. He wanted to let her know that he was aware of the things she probably didn't like, but that didn't change his perception of her.

             Because no matter what, she was beautiful.


            

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