Seven Ways to Like a Weasley
"I like your freckles," he commented to the tuft of red hair poking out from beneath the red blanket.
The soft lump lying on the couch exhaled, gently lifting the tuft of red hair skyward.
"And I like your sticky-outty ears."
The lump inhaled. The red blanket grew.
"I like the way you puff out your cheeks when you're concentrating."
A foot clothed by a purple sock stuck out at the other end of the blanket. The toes curled and uncurled periodically.
"I like that your feet are too big, and your wrists are too skinny."
He sat with his hands clasped between his knees, in the dim light of the dying common room fire.
"And I like how you yell at the top of your lungs when you're flying."
He brushed the dangly hairs out of his eyes.
"I like that your eyebrows are blonde."
He inhaled as if to sigh, and held his breath instead.
"Well, g'night."
He exhaled slowly and silently as he padded past the twinkling Christmas tree. He grabbed another red blanket and scratchy yellow pillow from the corner and curled up on the couch opposite.
"I like spending Christmas with you."
He closed his eyes.