Author's Note: Verb tenses are evil, evil things. I think I might of screwed some of the tensing up a bit, so I might have to fix it later, once I figure out how. In other news, this is a Seamus/Everyone fic, but especially a Seamus/Dean fic, and therefore, slash. Don't like? Don't read. Lastly, I don't own any of the pretty boys or girls in this fic. They are exclusive property of a lot of people who aren't me.
Liquid Rainbow World

The world is such a technicolor place, with blazes of rainbows and prisms everywhere you look. I don't think anyone looks at the rainbows anymore. All they see is the pain. Pain is black. Sometimes it's blazing red, but it's always black too. I know what pain looks like. Pain hurts, but it gives such a prime oppurtunity to admire the gorgeous contrasting colors. There is a line between black and red. I like the red better. It's closer to the world's colors and you don't have that awful chance of being sucked into it like the black will do.

She really smelled like lavenders. I knew it was her and not perfumes or lotions because sometimes she uses perfumes and lotions and they burn my nose and eyes and mouth but I still felt the soothing lavender beneath it all. I loved her for a while. She loved me too, but in a different way, because she throws the word love around too much. She loved me like she loved her Divinations textbook. It was useful, yes, especially for her reputation. She carried it around so much because she wanted people to see her with it. She was facinated with the ideas behind the words inside, she read what she can see and stared intensely at the pictures. She wouldn't give her life to save it because it can always be replaced.

I loved her, she thought she loved me. It ended sweetly, and I still loved her. I still loved everyone I'd ever loved. I can't stop loving. I loved Lavender, Parvati, and dear Neville. I loved Ron, Oliver and my precious Draco. I loved Justin, Blaise and sweet, brilliant Harry. I loved Hannah and Terry and Fred and George and Vince and that pretty Beaxbatons boy whose name I never learned.

Everyone here calls me a slut. They don't say it like it's bad, just teasing and affectionate. Dean doesn't call me that. He calls me a lot of things. He calls me arrogant and poufy and a complete idiot, but he doesn't call me a slut. I think he understands how much I love the world, but only sometimes, because othertimes he's jealous and doesn't quite understand.

Dean says I want to be loved back. He says that because I love so many people, if I ever get hurt by someone, so many people will rally behind me. He says that even though I'm not loved back by them, they're still connected to me because I love them.

I love Dean most of all, more than all the others. He loves me back a lot, too. He says he'll always love me, and no matter how many times I've heard that from dozens of different mouths, I believe Dean.

Dean draws beautiful pictures of me while I'm asleep and smiles to remind me he cares and holds my hand under the table then laughs when we try to eat breakfast with one hand. Dean kisses so soft sometimes that he's like starlight on my lips and other times he kisses so passionately that I can feel his love pouring into me. Dean tells me I'm beautiful in an awed voice, like he can't believe he's allowed to be near me, and he blushes when I tell him the same thing in the same tone.

"Seamus," he asks me somtimes, "Do you love me?"

"Always, more than anyone else," I always tell him.

He frowns then, because he's a bit spoiled and wants all my love for himself, and then I have to explain all about how even if I didn't love all those other people, I couldn't possibly love him more. Then I kiss him and then he kisses me and everything's better.

This relationship might end. It's not perfect, not absolute, but nothing ever is. This relationship might never end, and I hope it doesn't, because I do love Dean more than I love anyone else.