Disclaimer: I don't own Rose or Scorpius. All kudos goes to the magnificent J.K. Rowling
Cascades of fiery red hair wrap around her head, soft and untouchable. Her freckles are spattered like perfect globs of paints on her porcelain face. Cheekbones stick out, stark against the pale magnificence of her skin.
Her hair billows everywhere, covering her pillows and obscuring her eyes, but if you looked closer you would see them, the twin oceans frostbitten in the center and speckled with fractures of sunny gold.
But Scorpius isn't looking at her hair or her freckles. Or even trying to peek into her hidden eyes.
Scorpius sees her bones sticking out too far against her skin and the meaning of the whole thing, of the beautiful but dangerous state her cheeks are in.
Because they're "pretty " or "mysterious" now, but soon they will only be gaunt.
Because Rose won't eat again.
The troubled boy reaches for his forehead, rustling the platinum blond hair prickling there. Messy and unkempt, because of this girl in front of him.
Because Scorpius is afraid.
(A/N I know this prologue only causes more questions. I need reviews to see if you guys like this idea or think it is stupid)