Author's Note: Oh look! It's her! She finally found the decency to come back and drop us a line! Okay, I should stop writing from your imaginary POVs. Haha. Well, i'm kinda back. In a way. Sadly, I haven't found the inspiration to write any more chapters for my novel-length fics at the moment. But i'm here with a rather cruddy piece of work that I came up with at eleven at night while waiting for my Ugly Betty download to finish. Yes, how awesome of me. ;)

Anyway, do read it. It's not really as emotionally satisfying as a chick read or a big block of chocolate but it's... it's an observation on how things start. If you get my meaning. Do drop me a line by reviewing, tell me what you think. I might post another short story sometime in the coming weeks.

Cheers.

Disclaimer: Oliver Wood and Katie Bell are not my characters.

Beautiful, Awkward Moments

Oliver saw her slide down the table, her face landing with a squelch on her bowl of porridge. He couldn’t find out why, what strange reason compelled him to think that this was attractive behaviour. But he did find her attractive then, with her messy hair and closed eyes. Not to mention her near-asphyxiation by the tub of lukewarm porridge. It was rather strange, he thought, but such unseemly behaviour made her even more attractive to him. It was ridiculous!

He cleared his throat and poked her cautiously with a nearby fork.

“What? What?” she flailed her arms around but she stopped when she saw it was him, “Oh. It’s just you.”

He felt slightly irritated by this but persisted. “Yeah, it’s just me.”

“Yes, well. What do you want?” she said as she started scrambling around the table for napkins. He handed her his.

“Just thought I’d wake you up before you drown in porridge.”

“Of course,” she said shortly as she wiped away at the slowly drying goo on her forehead, “Very thoughtful of you, Oliver.”

“I suppose so.”

He couldn’t stop looking at her, this was beyond ridiculous. It was insanity, right? He watched her gather her dark brown hair into a messy ponytail and shove the bowl of porridge in the front of her.

“Pass me the toast, will you?” she said, pointing with a butter knife which was already loaded with butter.

“Er – sure.”

He handed her the bread basket and watched her spread butter over the pieces of burnt white bread, then reach out for marmalade to repeat the whole process again.

“Tell me, Wood. Do you find all this very fascinating?” she grinned at him as she bit into a piece of toast.

Say something clever! Say something clever, he thought furiously. “Er – I guess I find your process of making breakfast very intriguing indeed.”

She laughed, “You sounded like Percy just then, mate. I wouldn’t do it again if I were you.” She winked at him and proceeded to eat.

Damn.

“So, Oliver, what’s on your agenda today, hmm?” she asked, starting her usual morning small talk. He always seemed to sit next to her in the mornings.

“Oh you know. The usual.”

“Not planning to have the team practice at dawn tomorrow?”

“Not quite yet, Bell.”

She stopped short of biting into another piece of buttered toast and looked at him worriedly.

“Are you alright, Wood?” she asked, looking genuinely concerned. He just wanted to kiss her then but he’d never admit it to anyone, he actually tried telling himself that he didn’t think that afterwards.

“Er – quite alright, thanks.”

“Are you sure?” she eyed him suspiciously, her eyes landed on his unused plate. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“Not really hungry, Bell.” He said simply, hoping that short answers would stop her from asking any more questions.

She stared at him as if a large leech was sitting on his forehead sucking out his brain (although he was pretty sure that if a large leech was sucking out his brain, she’d be screaming for help a good distance away). “What do you mean you’re not hungry?”

He avoided her stare and looked at his hands instead. Since when did she have the ability to make her nervous? “I’m just… not.” That was when he looked up and stared right back at her.

And for some strange inconsequential reason, they couldn’t break the contact.

Until someone dropped a fork and coughed loudly.

That was when he excused himself and she, after hesitating whether she should run after him or call him back, settled down and ate the rest of her breakfast.