All of characters are OC from roleplaying game on facebook. This is for Mad. :)
When he hears the door creaks, he doesn't immediately sit up (it's too much effort anyway), instead, he waits till the person either comes in or goes away. He inhales the vague scent of chocolate and sandalwood, and the latter one makes him recognise who it is.
"Daw?"Adele's small voice breaks the silence. She hops on the bed and he sits up, and for the first time in months, he sees her. His eight year old self doesn't have too many adjectives to describe her, but he thinks she looks pretty.
"Hey," he croaks, wincing as he realises how hurt his throat is. "You're back."
Adele nods and she snuggles closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I missed you," she mumbles, "Paris is boring."
He finds himself smirking. "It doesn't have me."
The smirk turns into a smile when he feels her smiling against his shirt.
"True, Mum sent me home cause I kept whining," she pulls away, showing him the brightest grin of hers.
He doesn't laugh, though, because he realises it means that she is alone with the babysitters. Again. Adele's parents always go somewhere and the visit to France is the only one time Adele's brought with them. He is too young to understand why people prefer to put their children in babysitter's care.
Adele seems to notice the look on his face because she starts hugging him again. "It's okay, Daw. I get to meet you every day now. How awesome is that?"
"Very awesome."
She giggles. "So, I heard you're sick."
"Am Nott," he protests.
He can practically hear her rolling her eyes.
"I brought you cookies," she tells him, wriggling her way out of his arm and taking a box of cookies from his nightstand.
His face brightens up as the smells gets stronger.
"They're magic cookies," she continues proudly, "because I was the one who made it."
"Is it edible?" He teases, his eyes fixed on the box.
"Of course," Adele pouts, as if to prove her point, she took one of cookies and bite it.
It's Dawson's turn to pout. He nudges Adele's hand softly, mine.
Adele giggles prettily, her blue eyes dance with happiness. "Never doubt Dele's girl power then." She says feigning serious tone.
Dawson only rolls his eyes, his throat hurting too much.
"It hurts, doesn't it," Adele frowns, "Don't speak, I will tell you everything about Paris."
She begins to tell how beautiful it is or how the clothes look great. There's a moment when she looks sad, but it quickly changes to cheerfulness. She is dynamic, never letting herself or anyone sad. She is summer, with her sunshine hair, eyes as blue as the sky on bright day, and a dazzling smile like glittering sea under sunbeams.
Their knees bump each other as the story unfolds and Dawson finds himself happy. The memories of being alone or studying family tree and pureblood thing-y are pushed back and replaced by everything he does now. His focus is only on her. Only her. Adele has a thing for doing that without trying.
Adele yawns involuntary as she finishes, "you should sleep. It's nighttime."
Dawson chuckles because he's actually wide awake and feels more refresh.
"I can even carry you to your room," he tells her so.
"Mmmh, good," her head falls onto his shoulder. "Sleepy."
He carries her in bridal style, his neck tingling funnily because of her warm breath and soft hair.
"Magic," she says before she drifts further into sleep, "Don't forget."
He won't (will).