𝔒𝔭𝔦𝔲𝔪

The last of the students file alongside you with haste as you make way towards your seat for charms. Sliding yourself onto the long bench, you settle, fixing your disarranged tie and carefully smoothing your hair down as you wait for class to begin. Flitwick announces his presence with the scrapes of chalk on the board and you lift your head, instantly squinting at the blurred vision before you.

A silent curse to yourself with the quick realisation sinking in that you had forgotten to insert your contacts and cannot make out Flitwick's cursive. Favourably, you always made sure to carry your glasses with you as an absolute backup, but a seeping dread and apprehension surges in your chest at the thought of needing to wear them.

Having no choice, you begrudgingly grab them from your bag and slide the frames onto your face, your vision correcting instantly. You pray no one pays enough attention to confidently point them out, leaning your head in your hand in extra effort to hide yourself, glad when your hair falls, creating more of a shield. But of course, the one person you wished wouldn’t notice does. 

Theo, often your desk neighbour who had also been running late, slides into the seat beside you, his head snapping down to the way you're sitting. His eyes trail over you as they usually do, before stopping to rest on the frames perched on your nose. His expression is nothing more than a mere eyebrow raise at the new accessory, though his gaze doesn’t falter despite the class beginning.

Sensing the lingering stares from Nott, you raise your head, glancing at him, reactively lifting your glasses to rest on your head in a moment of embarrassment. The once clear views of the handsome boy in front of you vanishes at your worsening site, and a deep chuckle leaves him when you squint instinctively.

“Huh, didn’t know you were blind as a bat.” His face resorts back to his signature resting face, a small smile peeking through his casual manner. “Cute bat nevertheless.” 

Scoffing lightly at his cheeky compliment, your hands lift, covering your face, trying to hide your obvious flustering. “Shut up Nott, and quit staring. It’s rude.” Lowering your gaze back to your notes and ignoring the rush of heat sweltering within your body, leaving you feeling nervous. 

Theo makes no endeavor to listen, deep eyes taking in every expression your face changes through. He feels lost, spiraling down a hypnotizing well as he drowns in your beauty. He’s drawn by the glasses that seem to enhance your elegance, watching you lower the specs. His lips curl wider. “Ah ha. This makes so much sense ya know.”

“What does?” Quirking your head in curiosity, your brows furrowing. 

His face shifts, exposing his adorable, charming toothy grin, one of your favourite features of him. “This is why you’ve never hit on me isn’t it. You haven’t been able to see how hot I am. Merlin, look at what you’ve been missing out on.” He whispers, emphasizing his face moving his hands in a circle before he runs a hand through his hair. His eyes meet yours with an impudent gleam, raising a brow in a sarcastic manner that he’s right. 

Rolling your eyes, attempting to hide the smile stretching onto your face, you snort. “Theo I wear contacts, you idiot.” You continue focusing on Flitwork's work, looking away from Theo momentarily, giving you time to breathe. “Stupid contacts,” you mutter under your breath, irritation laced in your tone. 

A quiet chuckle escapes him while he studies you, noticing the clear insecurity you're projecting about your eyewear and his heart softens. Here you were worried and anxious about how you looked in your cute glasses, while he thought you’d never looked more beautiful. He’s struggling to wrap his head around why you seem so bothered, asking his next question quietly with a genuine interest, “Why don’t you ever wear them?” 

Theo’s soft and calm tone surprises you, making you raise a brow, heartbeat speeding up, skin sweltering as he continues his wanderlust stare. “I don’t like them.” You mumble nervously, gazing back down, feeling your insecurity grow. A gentle caress brings your gaze back up to him, and he studies your features again, but closer. 

It’s a very intimate moment for the middle of class, your body becoming flustered staring into Theo’s ocean orbs. You always had a hard time giving him direct eye contact, finding yourself melting into a puddle. They held you captivated, saying so much with such little emotion.

Everyone is always comparing them to the ocean, and they were right, not even just for the colour but for how they always acted. His gaze could switch from calm to stormy in a matter of seconds, always so unpredictable, just like the weather. 

His gaze holds a truth to them, while you’re getting lost in his eyes he can’t help but mirror your actions. The colours and emotion swirling in them make it hard to look away, he feels trapped while he flickers between the contrast of your iris and the frames of your glasses.

“But you’ve got them framed now, like a piece of art. Nothing could be more beautiful.” 

Nothing could have prepared you for what he just said, your mouth parting in a state of awe, that the infamous Theodore nott could even hold such amazement for you. Gaping at him, you struggle to absorb his compliment.

Did he just compliment your glasses to art, something that should be marveled at? A piece of work that is admired by many. You can’t help the way your body flushes and the smile that creeps as you gaze at him appreciatively. No one has ever complimented you in such a way, and so casually. “Really?” 

He watches in sweet amusement, a swell of pride blooming in his chest, watching your face light up. A glow of pure happiness takes over your features, and he swears you’ve never looked prettier. He finds himself matching your smile, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, keeping his voice quiet to not disturb the class. “I wouldn’t lie to an angel.”

You’ve never found yourself so flustered before, feeling the heat migrate over your body, looking away from him momentarily. He laughs, breaking the romantic moment and you relax, relishing in the natural manner between you two falling back in. He leans back into the booth, smirking, “you should wear them more often. I like the idea of sitting beside literal art.”

Rolling your eyes but grinning again at his compliments, the idea that he likes you for you is making your heart swell hopefully. “And I get to see you all flustered like this, it’s adorable. It’s just spec-tactular, don’t you think?”  

Snorting a little too loud at his glasses pun you draw the attention of your professor, and he decides now to call on you for a question. Your face flushes in embarrassment at the extreme awareness that now is looking at you and your alternative eyewear.

Theo chuckles quietly once you answer and shrink back in your seat, glaring at him. He can’t help but continue his annoying and starting-to-seem-endless supply of eye related puns. “Hey now, don’t lash out at me, don’t lose sight of what’s important. You're a real vision.” 

The rest of class speeds by in a blur, with Theo never shutting up and your eyes unable to stop rolling, but with a small grin that’s unable to leave your face. Your mind can’t stop replaying his original moment of sweetness and, surprisingly, you feel a new growth of confidence has spurred. You’re seeing a whole new perspective with him.

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