A/N: This is one of those random plot bunnies that made me get up and put it down. Hope you all like it. It's inspired by a beautiful love song called "Bus itna hai tumse kehna" which translates into "It's all that I want to tell you" and more specifically a phrase from it which translates into -whether I am around or not, let a part of you always live in me'
All Characters of this story belong to J. K. Rowling
All That I Want to Tell You
He sat on the very same bench he always did and watched the little girl play. The spring was in the air, crisp and bright, just like the sun that shined down the small playground.
The auburn coloured curls blew into her eyes and she pushed them back with her chubby little hands causing bits of sand to lock into them. He laughed a little to himself; her mother wouldn't like it. But he loved it. And he loved the concentration with which she moved the sand around using those plastic sand toys to make something that weakly resembled the base of a castle, or perhaps, he smiled to himself again, a voluminous book? It was quite hard to tell actually. But he looked on as the little one worked on her artwork, concentrating hard and biting her small pink lips with her tiny teeth.
She gets that from her mother, he thought adoringly, and even without seeing, her he could easily visualise those brown curls flying around the face he loved most. He could almost see the way she sat under the large tree near the lake, her eyes glued to a random book on her lap and biting her lips in just the same, familiar fashion. It was a lifetime ago, before everything, and yet, it felt just like yesterday.
He could never tell her how much he loved watching the sun shine through her hair, the small twitching of her brows when she came across some text that confused her, and then, soon enough, the relaxing of her face and the hint of smile that came along when that brilliant mind of hers untangled the secrets of the letters in the book.
He could never tell her that the feel of spring for him was that vision of hers. In his memories, the fragrance of the season was entwined with the fragrance of her shampoo that wafted to him during those blissful, lazy afternoons they spent at school. And he could never tell her, that more often than not, the flush of his ears was caused not by the sun but when she turned and those bright, brown eyes met his own blue ones.
He smiled at the memory and sighed at the smaller image of the girl he loved. The simple but pretty white dress was now smudged with sand and he ached to reach and pull the little one in his arms. But he sat put instead and watched the face he loved so much. She was a pretty child and would grow up to be a beautiful woman, just like her mother. He ached a little at that though but that would be years later; she was only five after all. A few more years and she would be on a train to the school, and he hoped she would be just like her mother in that aspect too; brilliant and fiery, passionate and kind. And just a tad bit paranoid, he thought with a small laugh to himself. But that was what he loved about her most, wasn't it?
That and everything else...
He loved her so very much- those crazy and annoying habits, the way she nagged him for schoolwork, the way they bickered for every silly thing, the way she cared and crashed into his arms afterwards, the way she risked everything to follow the quest, the way she remained the solid backbone and took those curses, and still fought on.
Sweet Merlin, how much he loved her...
He loved her laughs and the way she rolled her eyes but smiled when she thought he wasn't looking. He loved holding her in his arms, kissing her. Loved the way she poured her heart into those kisses as if telling him about the years and years of secret longings. How many days, weeks and months he had wasted fearing that she wouldn't understand, fearing she wouldn't feel the same, perhaps? If he could only get those years back, he would live each minute telling her what she meant to him, how much he loved her, still after everything...
"Rose?" a voice called from around the corner and the little girl looked around.
"Yes, Mamma?"
She came from behind the flowering bushes just as he remembered, as a piece of a dream- his dream.
"What have I told you about not playing in the sand, sweetheart?" Hermione asked, tucking a curl behind her ear as she bent down to get to the eye level of her daughter. He could watch the two for all eternity and still not get enough.
"But I like it, Mamma! See what I made?" asked the little one eagerly. He forced his eyes away from those faces he loved so dearly to look at the little one's creation. It still looked like a block to him.
"Wow... It's very ... um...pretty, sweetheart," said the mother, obviously still trying to figure out what it was supposed to be.
"You don't know what I made, do you?" asked the little one, staring hard at her mother, tiny arms perched at her hips, and Ron couldn't help but laugh. The little one was smart, smarter in fact.
"I... well..."
"That's Daddy!" squeaked the little one, obviously missing out the momentary shock and then pain that flickered in her mother's eyes.
"Rose..."
"See Mamma, it looks exactly like the place where he sleeps in the hilltop from Gramma Weasley's place, doesn't it?"
This time, the mother remained quiet for much longer and it was a very controlled voice that answered.
"Yes, it does. Let's go home, shall we, sweety?"
"Okay!" she answered and getting up, dusted her dress and turned around to look at the empty bench with her beautiful blue eyes before turning back to her mother.
"I always think Daddy would sit on that bench and watch me play," she said innocently as her mother looked away for a moment, and then, picked up the child to hold her close to her heart. Hermione closed her eyes shut and bit back her tears before looking at the empty bench.
"I am sure he is right there watching you love," she said as a lone tear managed to escape and trickle down to disappear into her daughter's curls.
I know you are here with us, Ron.. she said softly to herself looking at the empty space before turning around and walking away.
A/N: I know it's sad but I still love it. Let me know what you think, please?