Disclaimer: Hey, guess who still doesn't own these characters? Me.

I've been on a hiatus of suckage (aka: college), but I'm back for the summer. This story is very rough, but I wrote it in, like, fifteen minutes. Please enjoy. :)

True

"Do you have any idea how immature you're being?" Harry asked, his tone illustrating how frustrated he was with the actions of the redhead sitting directly in front of him.

Aggravated green eyes locked with determined blue as he waited for an answer, but the only response he received was silence.

"Are you seriously going to do this?" he asked, only to – once again – receive no response from his best friend.

The dark haired boy sighed and rolled his emerald eyes. "Are you also going to stomp your feet? I hear that's what five year olds do."

In all their years together, he had never seen the ginger headed boy do anything this stupid.

Of course, he couldn't deny that in the time they had known each other Ron had occasionally made an unintelligent decision or two - dating Lavender being one of the worst that he recalled. But this was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever done – hands down. Or, at the very least, the most childish thing he'd ever seen him do.

Not even one foot away from Harry, the red head was sitting with his legs crossed on his Chuddly Cannons bed sheet, his cheeks puffed out as he held his breath for no good reason.

There weren't any hiccups he was trying to get rid of. The room didn't smell any worse than it usually did. There was nothing important stopping the boy from taking a breath. Absolutely nothing.

And yet, there he sat, holding his nose and keeping his lips clamped shut making breathing impossible. While his usually tan face, dotted with freckles, began to go from red to a light violet making the annoyance in Harry's eyes fade to be replaced with worry.

"Ron. Please stop," he urged. "I'm not mediwizard, but this cannot be good for you."

But the redhead wasn't giving up so easily. He was stubborn and though he felt a tad dizzy he knew he would win… or die trying.

Sitting across the room, Harry stared at his friend, going through different courses of action in his mind. If begging wasn't going to work, he would have to try a different plan and quickly. There was no way he was going to let Ron win this way.

After a few seconds, Harry decided to use Ron's conscious. He could try guilting him into giving up.

"You're going to pass out and die," Harry supplied, lying back on Ron's headboard. "And guess who's going to have to tell your mother? Me." He paused for a split second. "She'll be completely miserable, she will. You were always her favorite."

Ron, however, seemed unmoved by this - or if he was moved, he didn't show it. Instead, he continued to hold his breath, his face turning an even darker shade of purple.

Harry gave a frustrated sigh. Surely there was something else he could do.

He could, of course, try throwing himself at Ron and hope he could over power him, but he knew this attempt would be futile. Even with one arm holding his nose shut, the red head would easily defeat him - the result of being the youngest of six sons.

After a few moments, Harry could think of nothing else to try and the color of Ron's face easily matched the color of Professor Dumbledore's favorite robes.

"Fine, I give up, Ron. I'll say it," he said, sitting up to look at Ron – face to face.

Blue eyes met green once more, the determination previously apparent in the former being replaced with triumph.

Silence filled the room as the two boys stared at each other, the air thick with anticipation.

"I love you."

Though the words were softly spoken, they were not missed by the red head and immediately following these words, he quickly released the air he'd been holding and began to breathe frantically.

Harry leaned over the bed to touch Ron's knee, a frown on his face as the boy in front of him gasped for air. "You alright there?"

Ron held up a hand as he tried to get his breathing back to normal.

The ebony haired boy sat back, watching the ginger headed boy with a worried look in his eyes. He had told him it was a bad idea from the start.

After a moment though, Ron looked back up at him. "You're right. That was immature." Harry nodded, satisfied with himself. "But I did win, though, Harry."

And then, the smug smile that had once been on the face of the Boy Who Lived faded away only to be replaced by Ron's lips seconds later.

"I love you, too," Ron whispered against Harry's lips before kissing him once again.

Okay, so basically, I listened to "True" by Ryan Cabrera and the lyric "I won't talk, I won't breathe, I won't move until you finally see, you belong with me" inspired me to write this story.

Thus, the reason Ron is holding his breath - until he hears those three MAGICAL word. Lawlz. :)

It's childish and just something I can see Ron doing in the fanfic world. I thought it was cute. Though potentially dangerous.

Oh, I am so excited to be writing on FANFICTION again. I've missed you kids.

Love,

MellyBrooke