He Likes You
Mood:  not sure
He Likes You

Summary: You know he likes you. That?s a given. Because he?s always wanting to kiss you. You can see the hunger in his eyes.

Disclaimer: Not JK

He Likes You


He likes you, you know. If he didn?t, why would he kiss you? Why would he hug you? Why would he hold your hand? Why would he pull you onto his lap and run his hands through your hair?
He likes you. If he didn?t he wouldn?t kiss you, or hold you or be as close to you as he is. Everyone know you like him. Everyone reads your long glances. Everyone sees through your mouthed words. They know you communicate physically. You know that you communicate through actions; kissing, hugging, hand-holding. You know he likes you. That?s a given. Because he?s always wanting to kiss you.
You can see the hunger in his eyes.
And you don?t mind kissing him back, or holding his hand. Or closing your eyes to feel him close to you. You don?t mind, and why would you? It?s what you?ve found yourself dreaming of. As you kiss the mystery man in your dreams you can?t tell who he is; his face never is clear enough. But when you wake up, you know it was him. It was his lips upon yours, because hat?s how it always is. You can't change that because you don?t want to. You want him to show you love; you want him to hold you and put his arms around you.
And you know that?s all he does.
You don?t talk anymore. You walk around with him every so often and you rarely talk. You know that as soon as he finds a suitable place he?ll make his move. You know he?ll wrap his arms around your waist; you expect it. Hell, you welcome it. You open your mouth a little wider and let him kiss you fuller. You kiss back. You allow him to pull you in for it. You let him hurt you.
He kissed you less than four days ago. Your mind is so cluttered you forgot what day. But you know he kissed you, you know it was real. Because it was so familiar; though it wasn?t breathtaking like you?d dream. You came to your friends; they were there, oblivious to the long kiss you had just shared. And he was there. But he doesn?t say anything to you about the kiss. He doesn?t ask you anything; doesn?t say a word. Instead, he talks about her.
How he misses her. How he could go on for hours and hours talking about her. About how every bloody love song was written for them. About how he?s going to win her over again. They?re going to get back together. You allow yourself to listen as he talks about her. Every other thing he says has to do with her and you listen. You don?t speak as your friends tell him good luck. They?re behind him one-hundred percent, and when she?s around they forget that you haven?t congratulated him. You?re fine with this.
Nobody bothers you anymore, ?Isn?t it fantastic?! They?re getting together! Going to have another go!? You don?t have to plaster on a facade and you don?t have to pretend to agree. And when she?s not there it always seems like she is. He?d be talking to his mates and he?d bring her up. ?That reminds me of the time,? or ?You know who said that before?!? And it?d always be her. You were certain that you had said it. That you were the clever one; but no, it was her. It?s always her.
He likes you, you know. He wants to hold you and kiss you. He wants to hold you and kiss you. He wants you; that?s a given. He wouldn?t hold you if he didn?t like you. He wouldn?t ask to walk you to class; then stop in the corridor to kiss you. You know he likes you; he?s told you that he likes you. But he loves her.


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You = Ginny
He = Harry
She = Cho

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Marty