Scorpius can describe Albus' eyes a million different ways. A forest after winter's claws relax. Silk strands weaved together into a quilt. Grass laced with clovers. The skin of a juicy pear. A swamp just before sunset – not very eloquent, but Rose has the word bone.
"Scorpius!" Albus runs towards him. "There you are!"
Scorpius shrugs and tries not to stare a Albus's eyes, but today they're a gleaming emerald. He pictures Albus' eyes closing as he kisses- don't think that!
"You okay?" Scorpius nods, trying not to stare at Albus' lips.
He can describe Albus' lips a million ways.