pieces of summertime
He likes lying on his back in the grass and staring up at the sky while Rose watches him and the (beautiful) things the sun does to his face.
"What're you looking at, anyway?" she asks, flipping over to see what he sees, but all she can see are a bunch of fluffy white clouds on a backdrop of blueblue, and somewhere in the corner is the sun—a perfect summer day.
"Nothing," he mutters. "I was just thinking…isn't the sun a star? Like, it's just a massive ball of energy, right?"
Rose just looks at him.
"So, if it's a star, then you can wish on it, right?"
Rose shrugs, reaching a hand out to touch that blonde head, golden strands tickling her fingers. There's a brain under there that thinks things her own mind is too closed to really get. She wonders, not for the first time, why he chose her. She's Rose Weasley, the frost queen, the cynic. Black is black and white is white in her books, and no funny business can change that. But to him, black could turn into white, if he wanted it to. She's seen him do it, with his whimsical words and thoughts, in those starry blue eyes that are always off in some other world, in his dreams and plans for things that could never (maybe) happen. She watches him do it now as he wishes on the sun because he doesn't want to wait for the night.
"What'd you wish for?" she can't help but ask.
He gives her a doubtful look, followed by a swift brush of his lips on hers, the ghost of a butterfly-light kiss that she can feel long after he's pulled away.
"You gonna make a wish or sit there all day?" he counters, lying right back down.
She rolls her eyes. "Childish oddball."
"Cynical sourpuss."
She smiles despite herself, watches as he loses himself in a daydream, and weaves her fingers through his hair again. Rose Weasley knows deep inside that there's no such thing as a happy ending, but lying in the grass in the summer by Lysander, she thinks that this is as close to a happy ending as she'll ever get.
-FIN-
A/N: With some help from Bethy (BethTonksBrown), who's lovely prompts can be found if you look hard enough ('no such thing as a happy ending', sourpuss, cloud, and frost), this fic is dedicated to Rachel (this carnival ride called life) on her birthday. Happy birthday, bro! I luffles yuh!