It's raining," he whined, eyebrows slightly furrowed and the corners of his mouth tugged down just the slightest.
"Quite the observation, really, considering you've been staring out the window for half an hour now," she commented nonchalantly, not bothering to look up from her novel.
"Ginny, I don't think you heard me. It's raining."
"I think I heard you the first time, Draco."
He shot her a glare that she didn't bother to receive, her eyes still trailing the yellowed pages.
"Ginny, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but it's raining and we were supposed to have a picnic."
Ginny couldn't help but laugh. "I don't see why it matters to you so much. You didn't seem all that excited about it before," she posed, setting down the book on her chair and joining him on the loveseat.
"Well, now I am. And it's raining."
"I think you've said that already." Her eyebrow rose slightly as she smirked at him.
"Damnit, Ginny. I want to go on a picnic!" He crossed his arms like a small child, pouting.
Ginny rested her head on his chest. "Draco, dear, could you please tell me exactly why you wanted to go on this picnic so badly?" She could feel his heart beating against her freckled cheek.
"Because, I- I had plans."
"Draco, Draco, Draco." She sat back and looked up at him, smiling slightly. She had a feeling it would come to this. Yes, as she recalled, he had most certainly liked picnics ever since the one last week had resulted in some rather public displays of affection (or shameful disgraces of a lousy generation, as one old lady had put it). "You do know that picnics don't have to be outside, don't you?"
She stood and grabbed a blanket off the arm of a chair and spread it out on the floor. Sitting on it cross-legged and unbuttoning her blouse, she smiled coyly and waited for his response.
"Did I mention I like picnics?"