Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
AN: I admit to having been inspired by Sweet Valley University's William White story arc, which has stuck in my mind for some reason even though I last read the books years ago. Please review! And remember, Dramione is love.
Summer Valentine
His mother's garden is a carefully-constructed arrangement of white roses and marble benches, with a fountain in the middle and a series of graceful stone archways leading back to the manor house. It is rendered stiff and pallid under the clear blue sky and brightly shining sun; this is a place of night.
"Here." Slender fingers cradle the stem of a single snow-white blossom, holding it out to her.
When she makes no move to take it, he asks, brow creasing, "Did I do it wrong?" She realizes she's the first girl he's ever given a flower to.
"I don't like white roses," she tells him frankly. "They're so formal, and so sad."
His shoulders sag just the slightest bit, but she catches his hand before it falls to his side.
"For you, though," she says, taking the flower from him, breathing in its dewy fragrance, "I'll make an exception."
He smiles his secret, tentative smile, the one that doesn't come as easily as his sneer, and it occurs to her that the sun washes him out, that, like his mother's garden, he is made for moonlight, and stars, and shadows.