All recognizable characters are the property of J.K Rowling.

a/n: I've never written in first person but here it is. I'd really like to know your thoughts on this so don't forget to review!

AFTERTASTE

There he stood in his, no doubt, expensive black shirt with sleeves rolled to the perfect spot, right before his elbows.

Fuck, he looked so good. But I'd die before I told him that.

He smirked at me, like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

He was always doing that, always making me feel like he knew something I didn't. Like no matter how much I beat him in tests and projects, he would always come first because he thought he was better than me. He wasn't and he knew that too. But that didn't stop me from stooping down to his level. It didn't stop me from being petty.

I think that, more than anything, was what made me hate him. The fact that he could bring me to do things I never would have done. The fact that he had that kind of power over me. Merlin, I wanted to kill him sometimes. Sometimes, I think that's exactly what he wants me to do, just to push me over the edge one last time because from then on, I have no doubt, he'll rule my whole life. But that'll never happen because if there's one thing worse than a world with Scorpius Malfoy was a world where he lived inside my head from the guilt of killing him.

I folded my arms across my chest in silent defiance and glared at him. This time, and only this time, I hoped he knew what I was thinking.

His smirked dropped until finally it was nothing, then all of the sudden he was close.

Closer than anyone has ever been.

And his hand was on my arm.

Then on my neck.

Then there wasn't any more space between us.

And my chest constricted because somehow I'd stopped breathing.

And my head by spinning but not from the lack of air but from him and how his mouth was doing such damning things to my mouth and how his tongue felt like silk and tasted like, like, like… nothing because it was just purely him.

Him, Scorpius Malfoy.

And with that thought he was gone, his lips, his wondering hands.

I opened my eyes slowly, afraid of what would be in front of me. But the first thing I saw were books, towering above my head and encompassing the ground around me. Then I heard the shouting. I reached out to take the books down that stood in my line of sight but before my hands could touch them, they were gone.

And I could see me. And him.

Arguing and shouting and throwing insults at each other like we didn't know they would weigh a ton later. At least to me they would. But I would never tell anyone how his venomous words were poison in my veins. How I'd wake up in the middle of the night with the memory of his taunts and I swear I could smell rotting flesh.

I didn't want this. I never wanted it.

I don't even remember how it began, all I knew was I wanted it to end, because while it may not faze him, it ate away in my mind. Before, I would've settled with never having to be around him anymore, I still might, but that was before. Before my lips knew his taste.

But we were still arguing, from the looks of it, it was reaching the tipping point I knew all too well. It was that moment when one of us, usually him, would say something that resonated right down to the bone. But this time seemed different, like it was ending, and in that moment I knew there was no going back from this. There wouldn't be a week of silence, it would be a forever.

I braced my hands on the shelves, he scowled. The books slowly toppling behind me, I hissed back at him. I tore at the mountain of volumes, he opened his mouth. I could feel my nails crack, his cherry mouth curved in mockery.

I screamed.

The eminence of books gave away to ash.

He turned to me and smiled.

And for a moment I thought I'd done it. For a moment, I thought it was possible. My mind flashed with crimson lips and wondering hands, of endless Sunday afternoons under the blankets with cold feet and warm breathing on my neck. For just one moment, it was peace.

Then he reached a hand out and it wasn't mine reaching back.

All I could see was her perfectly straight honey blonde hair, but I knew it was her. I knew to the sway of her hips, down to her lightly painted toes because I'd seen it every day for the last six years. Sitting beside me in meals, for class, sleeping beside me.

Everything blurred around the edges, tears.

Time raced but I stood still.

I watched as his hands touched her neck. I watched as his thumb stroked the back of her hand. I watch as her belly grew. I watched as he stared in amazement as her body racked in pain and a little miracle came out. I watched his tired hands caress a small head with a handful of hair. I watched as she learned to walk and run and everything else while he walked and ran right behind her, waiting to be the one to pick her back up again. I watched his wrinkled smile as he in turn watch her leave home for the first time.

I watched because it was all I could do. And I still watched even when the agony in my heart pulsated and exposed my beating chest.

Time raced and I stood still but I could feel my body age until eventually I felt like time itself.

The world turned dark.

Then Gryffindor red with gold accents around the edges. To my right, I heard her small crinkling laugh. I turned and water leaked out my eyes. I hastily wiped them away as I sat up in my bed.

She was sitting in front of the vanity applying blood red lipstick. Seeing my reflecting in the mirror she turned, "Hey, I thought you were already asleep."

I swallowed down the lump in my throat, "Had a nightmare."

"Oh," she chuckled, "Well, I'm sneaking out."

I raised a brow, scared of what might come out of my mouth.

"Look, I don't want to go out tonight without you knowing but," she paused and I almost slapped her, "I'm going to go see Malfoy."

I held my gasp in until I was sure I could calmly release it, "Oh."

She stood from the vanity, "I know you hate him and everything but… I-I think I just need this right now, y'know? After what happened with Albus, I think it's just time."

"I don't," I looked down at my hands, "I don't hate… him."

"Really?" she sighed in relief, "You don't know how much I needed to hear that."

I bit my lip and tasted him.

She walked to the door and I still tasted him. She opened it and I was drunk on his taste. She smiled one last smile and I was drowning in him.

She was gone but all I cared about was him.

I could go after her, tell her how I felt. But how did I even feel? It was just a dream. Just one little dream in a vast universe of dreams. What could I say when she asked why I was there? How would a dream stand against years of fights? It wouldn't and I would just be ruining a friendship. She'd tell me how he'd asked her not me. She'd say he liked her and hated me. And he does. He hates me because I was Rose Weasley and he was Scorpius Malfoy and we couldn't change who we were.

In another world, in another time where everything was different and nothing mattered, were we… together? Did everything feel right and the world at peace? Was he happy? Was I? Will I ever be?

The room was dark and the tears hot on my cheeks and I could still taste him.