I giggled at the thought of you in your teenage years. Seemed like a lifetime ago. A time before our paths crossed. You laughed back at me but your eyes were heavy with hurtful undertones.
“I haven’t always been the nicest person” you slowly admitted and the air got heavy too. I took your trembling hand from your knee and traced your fingertips. This did not define you. Your eyes held mine as I began to gently rub your back.
The Pomfrey Post 