Without knowing your name, where you were from
Hermione stumbled onto the sidewalk, the heat from the bar gusted as she opened the door, she could feel the cold rush on her face. She could smell the canal's water and feel the mist touch her arms as the wind swept through the ally. She had never been drunk before, and the way it flushed her cheeks was new. She couldn’t stop her face from splitting into an intense smile.
“You are beautiful.” The heavily accented voice came from her left. The voice was velvety and low. Hermione could not stop the chuckle of nervousness.
“Thank you,” Hermione bit her lower lip, taking in the girl who had spoken to her. The lean figure was accentuated by an emerald skirt that hit below her knees, cinched with a thick belt and a vintage t-shirt that was tied just above her hips. Her hair is long platinum and slightly messy. The hint of frizz from the sweat could not be avoided dancing in the club. Hermione’s own curls. Becoming slightly less tamed.
“Ah, American hm?” she could see the cherry of the cigarette against the dark. “Vacation?”
“Um, no, I’m studying here for the semester.” Hermoine wanted to keep her attention.
“Good. I ‘hope we will see each other again.”