The haughty, marble-smooth perfection of Gwen's expression when she played at a seriousness not actually felt was one that had found its way onto the pages of Steve's sketchbook more than once. As pretty as the girl was, his attention to the shift and play of her expressions had always been more aesthetic than romantic or sexual, and it was no less true then. He liked the way her smile lit up her face, as he did the triumph in making her break character.
His grin for her then had little to do with Charles or Erik, for his having netted the position of Head Boy (and she was wrong, he had still been surprised when he had discovered the badge in his packet - only for a moment, but all the same). No, it had all to do with the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed and his own joke having gone over well.
Her touch was nothing less than delicate, but he slowed in his step all the same to assure them both that she had his full attention as she spoke more soberly.
The Christmases at Hogwarts were beyond anything he had imagined as a small child, those early Christmases first painted in sickness and his mother's increasingly harsh coughing, and later with thin sheets and hastily made gifts at the orphanage. The celebrations the others went to with their families seemed more the stuff of fiction than real life, but distant enough that he no longer imagined taking part in them as he had so long before. But he could not say that a day in London with Gwen was unappealing, and he smiled. "We can always hike out to the edges of Hogwarts," he told her, immediately and unthinkingly including Bucky in the plan as there was no way in heaven or earth he'd leave his best mate behind at Christmas, "And apparate from there. Wouldn't have to rely on the train that way."
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Date: 2014-06-07 11:53 am (UTC)His grin for her then had little to do with Charles or Erik, for his having netted the position of Head Boy (and she was wrong, he had still been surprised when he had discovered the badge in his packet - only for a moment, but all the same). No, it had all to do with the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed and his own joke having gone over well.
Her touch was nothing less than delicate, but he slowed in his step all the same to assure them both that she had his full attention as she spoke more soberly.
The Christmases at Hogwarts were beyond anything he had imagined as a small child, those early Christmases first painted in sickness and his mother's increasingly harsh coughing, and later with thin sheets and hastily made gifts at the orphanage. The celebrations the others went to with their families seemed more the stuff of fiction than real life, but distant enough that he no longer imagined taking part in them as he had so long before. But he could not say that a day in London with Gwen was unappealing, and he smiled. "We can always hike out to the edges of Hogwarts," he told her, immediately and unthinkingly including Bucky in the plan as there was no way in heaven or earth he'd leave his best mate behind at Christmas, "And apparate from there. Wouldn't have to rely on the train that way."