He frowned. She had stopped talking. The world came into focus. He looked down at the source of stilled hair, and found a set of caramel swirled eyes looking back at him expectantly. She asked him a question, that was a question. He was supposed to answer. He had a knack for being rude to strangers, and usually this was the part where he would make a sarcastic comment, drop the mic, and walk away. But he didn’t. In fact he couldn’t. Theodore Nott found himself lost in a new fascinating sight. Freckles. Not the kind that would usually make him scrunch his nose in disapproval, but this was something else. It was like staring down at your favorite cup of latte on a winter