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You didn’t believe in fate or destined meetings, in gods who meddle with the daily lives of humans, but you believed in love and how it makes people change in ways no one can expect.
It was a slow day, a day off from your usually hectic shifts at St. Mungo’s. With nothing but your sketchpad, a pencil, and some coins, you took off to a nearby coffee shop. It was by chance you took the table right in front of his. There were many tables available, seats next to strangers, and ones with better views of the outside, but you sat at that tiny circular table near the corner of the room.
Maybe it was his sharp jaw, intense brown eyes, or curly soft brown hair that made you stare and look for a little too long. And maybe, it was the way his lips hovered above the mug, blowing softly, or the movement of his Adam’s apple as he took another gulp. The next thing you knew, he was the subject of your work. You try to shake yourself off, look the other way and maybe sketch the steam coming out of your cup instead or the sidewalk outside the window. But the steam curled into brown tresses and the mug into a sharp jaw. It’s funny, even back then, you and every fibre of your being always end up coming back to him.
So, you pretended to not stare too much as you tried to take note of every movement he made: the way he raised his eyebrows at the parchment in his hand, how he played with his quill when thinking, and the way he scrunched up his nose when he read something unpleasant.
You haven’t drawn in weeks; inspiration never came as you stewed in half-baked ideas and eraser shavings. Yet, somehow, this man in front of you had given you the inspiration you’ve been looking for.
The clock on the wall kept ticking as the time wore on, you finally noticed how long you had stayed and the hours you’d spent drawing the man in front of you. It was embarrassing how hours seemed to pass without your knowledge, your cup left unattended as you gave all of your focus on a man who has probably never seen you before. But you knew you had to leave at some point, walk away with only the drawings you made of him as proof of a meeting he won’t ever remember. Packing up your sketchpad and pencil, you were just about ready to leave when he stopped you.
“Don’t you think I should see your drawings of me before you leave?” He asked while looking at you with a lopsided smile. You’ve never seen that expression on his face in the hours you’ve spent studying him, and you can’t help but love the way it looked on him.
“Sorry, I didn’t think you noticed.” You didn’t think he would. He looked so busy that you thought your presence and staring would go overlooked.
It only took four steps to get from your table to his, your muse for several hours.
“Can I please see it?” he asked like he expected you to say no or to laugh in his face and say that he was being presumptuous. You didn’t do either of those things. Instead, you put on a small smile and turned the sketchpad to the right page before handing it over to him.
“Wow… How did you make me look so good?” You wanted to tell him because that’s just the way he looks, him with his broad shoulders and deep brown eyes. People are often harder on themselves than anyone else, and you’re just glad that your little drawings can make them see the beauty they have. Instead, you just smiled in response. You hoped your eyes can say what your mouth is too afraid to tell.
“By the way, my name’s Theo Nott.”
“I know. I’m-“
“I know. The barista called your name earlier and I kind of just remembered.” That surprised you, you didn’t think anyone had ever taken an interest in you enough to remember your name even before meeting you.
He handed you back your sketchpad but rather than taking it back, you grabbed it and wrote your number on the corner with a smile. Tearing the page off, you handed it back to him while hoping to see him again someday. You didn’t believe in fate, so you made sure that he’ll have the means to find you again if he wanted.
“Here, thanks for being my muse for today,” with those parting words, you turned around and left, the bell chiming behind you as you walked back home.
That was how you first met, at the corner of the coffee shop after hours of staring at him and him noticing you. Other than the greeting and farewell you exchanged at the end, you two never even held a single conversation. But you knew each other’s movements, the little quirks that become apparent after hours of just looking in silence.
The second time you met was less sweet. You saw him rushing into the hospital just as you exited a patient’s room. He had a panicked look on his face and, seeing the rush in his steps, you quickly stuck to the wall to avoid standing in the eye of the hurricane he created. You followed him with your eyes until he finally stopped running, a single step in front of a door. Resting his head on the wood, he took a deep breath before knocking. Even as far away as you were, you could tell that he knocks softly, almost afraid that he won’t be let in. Before the door even opened, you turned away. He deserved at least a bit of privacy. Nobody wants to be seen during the moments they are most vulnerable. After all, he won’t even remember that you were there.
After three days, Theo Nott finally called. For a while, you even doubted if he owned a phone at all.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” you answered as nonchalantly as you could, acting like you weren’t grinning from ear to ear. You felt like you were young again, conversing with your crush for the first time.
“So,” a deep breath, “how have you been?”
“I’ve been goooood,” you elongated the last word, hoping to lengthen the conversation with it. “How about you?”
“I’ve been… good,” he took another breath, “… hi.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. You were just two awkward people trying to find a common ground despite knowing so little about each other.
“Do you always draw strangers in coffee shops?”
“Only in my free time and when I think they’re cute,” you weren’t lying. There was just something about him that left you breathless. Your eyes followed every action he made like you’re afraid he was just another character in your dreams and you’ll wake up with no memories of him.
“So, you think I’m cute?” he laughed softly, and you can’t help but wonder if that was the first time somebody told him that sincerely. “Well, that makes this easier then.”
“What?”
“Do you want to go out with me?” And you swear you could hear the way his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. You just wished it was running to you.
“Of course,” you won’t tell him, but your heart was finding its way to him too.
“So… Saturday, 4 pm at the coffee shop?” You already agreed and yet, he sounded like he was still waiting for you to turn him down.
“Sure, I’ll see you there.” You couldn’t wait to see him again, find out the other expressions he made and nuances of his touches.
Saturday came faster than you thought, but it felt like forever at the time. You knew you looked a little stupid with how you smiled at the thought of Theo, yet you couldn’t help but feel excited all the same.
Theodore Nott, you’ve known about him for a long time. He, with his little band of Slytherins, used to terrorise Hogwarts during your teen years. The halls were filled with laughter and there never seemed to be a quiet moment whenever he was around, the goofball of the three Slytherin boys. You couldn’t have guessed he’d grown into a quiet man over the years after you graduated. His voice sounded nicer in that low tone he used now.
Standing under the shade with his hands in his pockets, occasionally taking them out to play with his fingers—that was how you found him. Wishing you could somehow capture that moment in a canvas, you stopped in your steps as you tried to drink him in.
The sun would occasionally get to touch his hair and skin as he moved around nervously; you were almost jealous of the way the sun could give him warmth you wished you could provide. His hair shined under the light, a beautiful shade of brown that reminded you of milk chocolate, with gold woven along each strand. His eyelashes were long and would kiss the skin under his eyes when he blinks. Pink, plump lips pressed into a line as he tried to stand still. You can’t wait to hear his voice again. And his eyes, those were the best part. Darting from left to right, dozens of different shades seemed to fight each other just to get the privilege to be in his eyes. Just like you, they’ve all lost and created a shade of amber that made you put down your shields.
Everything about him, from his tapping foot to his gold-dusted hair, made you feel like you were meant to be there. You were meant to be standing three meters away from him, at 4:02 pm, for a date in the coffee shop you first met in. Fate says that two unlikely people will always find their way to each other, and you just knew that you’ll somehow always run back to him.
Approaching him slowly, afraid that he was waiting for somebody else, you called his name for the first time.
“Theo?” You called out, waiting for his reaction and getting ready to memorise every moment of that day.
“Hey,” he greeted back.
Offering you his hand, he looked at you hopefully. You took it, held it, and you knew you won’t let go unless you had to. He opened the door to the coffee shop for you. With bright smiles on both of your faces, you took the first step into a relationship you knew you will never forget.
It started slow and quiet, both of you trying to find something common and sharing compromises when you couldn’t. It felt like a dance at first, each step taken deliberately to not step on each other’s toes. Nobody ever said love was easy, and loving him made you learn that. From his insecurities to the roundabout way he tries to fix arguments, there were several things you had to learn to work through with him. However, he was also there for you during your mental breakdowns and worked with your fear of confrontations. Both of you took the good and the bad and helped each other grow in ways you couldn’t have alone.
So maybe your love wasn’t the dance-in-the-middle-of-the-street and throw-your-whole-life-away-for-each-other type of love. However, yours was quiet, whispered between sheets and busy streets, hidden behind compromises and understandings, and drawn within canvases and cups of coffee. Some may call it boring and safe, but it was yours and you wouldn’t have it any other way. It doesn’t matter whether you believed in fate or not, because he’s here now and you’re never going to let go until he does.