The woman was beautiful. It was the first thing he noticed, which was unusual; despite his heart being thoroughly engaged elsewhere, Ford did notice that people were attractive, but not usually right away. Beauty came across most clearly to him in gestures and expressions, in the ways that people carried themselves and wore their features throughout an interaction, so it was rare for him to be struck by someone's appearance, but there was no other way to describe the sudden, forceful observation of her beauty in this case. And if she was beautiful while shrieking and trying to dodge a garden gnome, that must have meant she was beautiful in every situation — this was not one that would have complemented most people.
She'd lifted up the hem of her dress. His breath caught. He was inexplicably deeply invested in the question of whether or not he'd be able to see her ankles. Under normal circumstances he would have diverted his gaze, while doing whatever he could to help, but — he didn't even know what was different about this situation, honestly. He just knew the first thing that occurred to him wasn't to look away or consider her distress, it was to stare — to take any opportunity afforded to drink her in. He didn't even know her name.
"He-here, let me help," he managed as he scrambled to his knees. He didn't know how he intended to help; he'd reached for his wand but his brain was too busy wondering what the hell is wrong with you to think of useful spells. The gnome was in her petticoats, so it wasn't as though he could jinx it without risking some damage to either her dress or her legs. For one horrifically embarrassing moment he held his wand in one hand and did nothing except look a little panicked, like a deer in the headlights. Then, at a loss for any better options, he cast "Accio gnome."
She'd lifted up the hem of her dress. His breath caught. He was inexplicably deeply invested in the question of whether or not he'd be able to see her ankles. Under normal circumstances he would have diverted his gaze, while doing whatever he could to help, but — he didn't even know what was different about this situation, honestly. He just knew the first thing that occurred to him wasn't to look away or consider her distress, it was to stare — to take any opportunity afforded to drink her in. He didn't even know her name.
"He-here, let me help," he managed as he scrambled to his knees. He didn't know how he intended to help; he'd reached for his wand but his brain was too busy wondering what the hell is wrong with you to think of useful spells. The gnome was in her petticoats, so it wasn't as though he could jinx it without risking some damage to either her dress or her legs. For one horrifically embarrassing moment he held his wand in one hand and did nothing except look a little panicked, like a deer in the headlights. Then, at a loss for any better options, he cast "Accio gnome."
Set by Lady!