For Amber, my love.
.
Albus Potter glances at the clock on the side table. It flickers 2:43 in a bright green light. He sighs and rolls back over, pulling the cover over his shoulders. His gaze falls to the blond man sleeping soundly beside him.
He watches the gentle rise and fall of Scorpius' chest, marveling how, after everything, Scorpius still is there. Brushing the blond hair from his lover's face, Albus can't help but smile at the sight that no one else gets to see – the vulnerable side of Scorpius that he only shows when there's no one around.
Scorpius turns on his side and hauls the blankets with him. Albus chuckles lightly at the motion, and pulls the blanket back toward himself. "Albus," Scorpius whines sleepily, tugging at the blanket.
And for the first time in his life, Albus has never thought his name sounded better.
Albus lets Scorpius wrap himself in the blanket and settles for wrapping his arm around Scorpius' waist instead. As he drifts off to sleep, he wonders how he got so lucky.