author's note: an incredibly under appreciated couple. first time writing them, so sorry for any awfulness. title from arctic monkeys' 'suck it and see'.
They were walking by the sea front, holding hands. She could taste the salt in the air, and his hair had been ruffled by the wind.
"I like Devon," she told him cheerfully, "thank you for taking me here."
"Yeah, it's nice, isn't it?" he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand, "It's my favourite place in the whole wide world."
"It's very beautiful," she replied, "much more beautiful than York."
"Not as beautiful as Hogwarts," Arthur replied, and Molly smiled.
"Nowhere is as beautiful as Hogwarts."
They carried on walking in silence. Around them, Muggles went about their business like usual. Molly could sort of understand why Arthur liked them so much; their lives seemed so much simpler without magic.
"You're as beautiful as Hogwarts," he said suddenly, and she blushed, cheeks aflame.
She wondered whether the Muggles knew what they were witnessing, whether they knew the words that were forming in the back of her throat.
"Arthur," she said, and her breath hung in the air like smoke from a dragon's nostril, "I love you."
He stopped still, and rubbed his eyes with his fist, glasses bobbing up and down on his knuckles. He seemed flustered and a little confused, and for the briefest of seconds she wanted to take the words back, because dammit, she'd said them too early. She could almost hear Gideon laughing at her in that arrogant fifteen year old boy way, throwing a grape in the air and catching it in his mouth, whilst saying "Merlin, Moll, little bit early for that, isn't it?"
"Blimey," he muttered, more to himself than to her, "blimey O'Riley."
The strangeness of his words made her laugh, even though it was totally inappropriate.
"Blimey o'what?"
"O'Riley – Alan Cooper says it sometimes."
"The spotty Ravenclaw?"
"Yeah…the spotty Ravenclaw…" he trailed off, and let go of her hand, "Molly?"
"Yes?"
"Do you mean it? Really, really mean it?"
She did. She loved his lopsided glasses and his messy hair and the way he always had a rubber duck and a piece of string in his pockets. She loved how she had to stand on tip toes to kiss him, and how widely he smiled when she did so. She loved him, she loved him, she loved him.
"Yes I mean it," she nodded fiercely, "I mean it, I mean it, I mean it."
He pushed his glasses up his nose, still flustered. For a moment, the air stilled around them, and she held her breath. And then, Arthur bent down, and planted a kiss on her salty, chapped lips.
"I love you too," he said when he drew back, still hunched. His blue eyes were so clear she wanted to cry.
"You do?" she whispered.
He nodded, cheeks pink. They lapsed into silence together, both beaming. Too early? What did Gideon know about time, and space, and love and loss? Nothing. Gideon didn't know anything about anything, and if it was right, if you felt it in every nerve of your body, then why wait? What was waiting going to achieve?
They started walking again, hands clasped together tightly. The air had changed around them, everything was a little bit brighter now. She hoped it would always be this bright, with Arthur.
"D'you want an ice cream?" he asked suddenly, "Because I do. All of a sudden, I want ice cream."
"Yes," she beamed, "yes, I would love an ice cream."