For the 48 hours or less competition. I do NOT support this couple. I repeat, I do NOT support this couple. BillTonks (OneSided)
Prompts; wait, silent, kiss, regret, ocean, eyelids, gentle, sound of your voice, remember, photo album, sing, tears, salty, taste, touch, feel, door, wide open.
Blue eyes stared out the window, lips pursed in thought. His fiance was resting in a different room for the night, leaving him alone except for Charlie, whom was currently regrowing his hair in the twins' room. His eyes lingered on Charlie's wide open trunk, and the opened up photo album.
The picture had Tonks and Charlie, grinning like idiots at the end of their 4th year and his 6th. He was behind them, leaning down to get in the picture. He was grinning to, though not as largely as Charlie was. (He wasn't even aware a mouth could be that wide.)
Brushing his fingers against he photo, he covered up Charlie. A pang of regret flowed through him. Why hadn't he told her before she was married and he was engaged?
Shut up, you. His inner voice chided him. You have a beautiful fiance and your wedding is tommarrow. Now is not the time to be brooding over Tonks, who's married now! You don't even love Tonks as much as you did when you were seventeen. He nodded at this, before turning the page.
He looked at the next page; Tonks's 17th.
He'd just finished talking to her. Her eyes were slightly puffy, and salty tear tracks remained. His shirt was stained, but he didn't mind as his picture self picked up Tonks and started to sing 'Happy Birthday' to her. He could see his father's bemused expression in the corner. The picture continued to where Tonks began to sing the last Happy Birthday.
He remembered the sound of her voice clearly, as though she was bellowing it in his ear at that second.
Deciding not to wait out the night completely bored, he picked up the leatherbound book, he sat on the windowledge, the book open in his lap.
Leafing through the pages, he came to a page with pictures he hadn't known were taken.
In this last picture, Tonks was kissing him.
She was 18 and he was 20, and it was a friendly kiss. It lasted maybe two seconds, but he remembered it clearer than he did his own name. The feel of her soft hands in his hair, lingering after they'd broken apart. The static of her touch. The taste of her ever-so gentle lips against his own. Her eyelids fluttered open as she winked at him. He'd been silent the next twenty minutes.
The door creaked open.
"Looking at old pictures, Bill?"
"...Yeah, Charlie, why?"
