AN: so I was experimenting with 2nd person again. Hope it worked again. Let me know. Enjoy.

Pretty Hate Machine

Oh he's so very pretty. All dark hair and glinting eyes. You wish he would smile occasionally, but he always seems impassive. That is, he's impassive when he's not glaring at someone. You're not sure which you prefer. The blank indifference, while it lets you study his face in repose, suggests a neutrality, an inherent sense of boredom. The glare, however, allows you to see some emotion make its mark on his beautiful face, but when that emotion is anger, is it such a good thing?

He's elegant, not a word you often use to describe boys, but he is. Slim, lean, sparse. He never has a hair out of place. You sometimes wonder what he would do if you ruffled it, making it as messy as his brother's, but you never do it. You don't want to see his glare up close.

He seems quiet, never volunteering in class, only offering an answer when called upon. He always gets it right. Perhaps he studies hard, late at night, alone in his common room. Perhaps he is just naturally clever. Perhaps.

He only spoke to you once. To ask why you stared at him. You thought you'd been sneaky, that he'd never spotted you, but now here he was, standing in front of you. And you couldn't form an answer. After a few minutes of silence, he looked at you with disgust before walking away. You couldn't bring yourself to call after him. But oh he was so very pretty.