She looked at him.

She looked at him with butterflies in her stomach.
She looked at him and felt acrobats sommersaulting in her chest
She looked at him and felt bubbles overflowing the bucket of her emotions.
She looked at him and felt content.
She looked at him and quickly looked away.
She looked at him and felt dragons breathing down her neck.
She looked and him and wanted to break things.
She looked at him and felt nothing.

Follow me on Twitter: @WallflowerBlack
Email: theblackwallflower@gmail.com

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About TheBlackWallflower

I'm just your average unique person. I love to read and write (no surprises there, eh?) and think a lot. I adore Rowling and think Harry Potter should be a religion. I also hate pink. I love fluff generally because it makes me feel intelligent and I love poetry because it makes me feel different. (yes, references.) I'm married to Sirius Black. So I sign myself as The Bitch alarmingly often. Oh, and I love Mr. Darcy. And Jo Longo. And Chandler Bing. And Sherlock. (Yes, I'm a fantard.) And in case you want to drop in a good, or a critical word, feel free to email me: theblackwallflower@gmail.com OR, follow me on Twitter: @WallflowerBlack Enough with the babble. OkBye. View all posts by TheBlackWallflower

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