AN: Scorpius POV. An angsty oneshot dedicated to, well, So this is love.
Sweaty palms and stolen glances.
Arms grazing in the hall- our eyes meeting, mine screaming. Hers saying nothing at all.
In class I stare, waiting for the moment she looks up at me.
I long for the electricity her eyes entice in me. The sparks that fly when our eyes dance.
My mind twists like the wind enraged by a storm - reeling with bittersweet fantasies that capture me. Lifting me like rain and then crashing down on me like thunder.
My fingers twitch and tap over yellow-tented pages, thoughts straying back to the color, tone, and texture of her skin.
I spot her - my heart convulses and stops. Every part of me tensing. Even my feet, the ones dancing under my chair, are happy she's here.
I long for our times together and the things the two of us share. Whether it's a look, a class, a meal, or any and everything in between.
Years have passed in blurs of hues and blacks. Each blur fading back to her.
We've been the best and worst of friends since our start here at Hogwarts. Beginning the first week of our first year when we feuded in the library over a book the two of us wanted.
But something has changed in me the past year; something has snapped in me. Opening me up to her.
And here we are. The last days to the beginning of our lives.
"There you are, Scorpius!" Rose calls to me, "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
I feign a smile, staring down at the girl who has brought out my soul and made me hide it under my sleeve. "I've been here the whole time, Rosie dear."
"I can't believe it's over." She looks up at me, eyes gleaming, brimming with tears. "I can't believe we've graduated."
"It's surreal, isn't it?" I say.
"I'm going to miss you, mate. You were like family to me."
My entire posture goes rigid, but I hide it well. I fake a full faced grin her way as she comes forward, arms outstretched, looking for an embrace. I accept it, of course. Any moment I'm offered to hold her is a moment I'll take without pause. The hug ends and the two of us pull away and smile.
My legs feel immobile. Frozen in place by something I can't control. I watch her walk away from me. Her back's turned to me, head casting over her shoulder a few times before finally turning the corner. This isn't the first time she's walked away from me, but I fear it may be the last.
So this is it?
The twisting, aching and burning in my chest. Wet palms rubbed against my robes, hair standing on edge, words lodging themselves in my throat. A fever dominating my frail body, controlling my actions in crippling and possessive ways.
My heart increases at every touch, every thought, every flicker of red. My mind racing, spinning in my head, adding to the effortless bleeding in my brain. The ache increasing - deafening, blinding - and I wish my sad little heart will stop beating against my ribs, putting a breaking pressure on my chest.
I've heard that this is a fiddling of thumbs, a pulling of hair. Something simple; something sweet. I thought this was candy coated dreams, weak minds and weak knees. I thought this was a deluded happiness. A fading sense of attraction, lust.
No one told me this hurt. That there were areas outside of the standard black and white. That even seeing the gray in between wasn't enough.
No one ever took the time to tell me - to sit me down with a knife in their left breast pocket and say, "So, this is love."