"Why won't you let me in?" she half screamed at him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
"Because Lucy!" he said with more intensity than she'd ever heard in his voice as he ran his hands through his windswept hair. There was a pause as each collected themselves. If it had not been for the howling wind keeping them in reality both would have thought time itself had stopped for them.
"Because what?" She asked in a much quieter voice, he could barely hear her above the wind, but an obvious exasperation laced her words.
He was taken aback by her change in emotion, but he had already started and he knew he was past the point of no return. There was nothing stopping the words from coming now. "Because you deserve better, because you deserve the world and I can't give that to you, because I could never forgive myself if I hurt you." He almost flinched at the sound of the words, of how cliché 'it's not you it's me' they sounded. But he knew it was true, and it needed to be said. She was precious, she was everything and she needed to be kept safe and respected. He had told her the truth and he couldn't even look her in the eye when he said it. It was just more proof that someone as caring and intelligent and completely perfect as her deserved someone so much better than he.
"Well it's too damn late for that." She began, the words pouring out of her in a waterfall of emotion before she could even process them. "You've already hurt me." His head snapped up and she forced herself to look at him as she continued. She forced herself to see the pain in his eyes and the confusion on his face. There were no walls now. Only raw emotion. "Love hurts." Then she turned and walked away. Away from him, away from confessions, away from embarrassment, away from the truth. The tears were flowing freely now as she hugged herself to ward off the cold and made her way across the moonlit grounds.
She felt broken, like just admitting the words had torn her apart. But she also felt surprisingly light, like all of those pent up feelings had been weighing on her and she didn't even realize it.
But that was that. She was in love with him and he couldn't even bring himself to look at her. She knew she had ruined years of friendship, but she couldn't live like this any longer. Somehow she felt it was better that he knew. Like if she got all of her feelings out of the way she could get past it and maybe eventually it wouldn't hurt to be around him.
She was so lost in her inner reverie that she didn't hear the hurried footsteps behind her. She didn't even realize he was there until she felt a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to turn around.
"What did you just say?" He asked, the wind whipping his hair across his face and making his shirt cling to his skin.
She didn't answer at first. He realized he had caught her off guard. She wasn't expecting him to come after her. In fact, he thought, she had expected him to just leave it at that. Did she really think what she had said meant nothing to him? Did she not know how much hope those words incited in him? Could she honestly not see how ridiculously mad he was for her?
She sighed. It was a heavy, exasperated sigh filled with fatigue and annoyance, but strangely, no regret. "Are you really going to make me repeat myself?" She asked him, pain and reluctance contorting her beautiful features.
She turned away and resumed her trek towards the warmth of indoors, walking against the brutal wind. She was tired of him toying with her. If he thought she was going to go through that emotional odyssey again just so he could laugh and wave her off, he had another thing coming.
She was angry. And she was not going to let him make her feel inferior for emotions she couldn't control. She was so ready to be mad, to call him out on his bullshit, but all her resolve crumbled when he caught up with her and she forced herself to look at him. And there, on his face, as plain as day, where she expected to see amusement or forced sympathy, was a sadness mixed with such hope that it completely caught her off guard. She couldn't even muster up the strength to speak.
"Lu…" it came out as a plea. He wanted, more than anything he had ever wanted, for her to explain. To say something. Whether it be good or bad, he just had to know. He needed that closure.
The sound of her name on his lips brought her out of whatever trance she was in. She had to say something. To get away from those golden eyes that so tempted her to spill the secrets of her soul. "I can't" she choked out, and she hoped it was enough.
"No!" He said, his anger now taking control. "You aren't allowed to do that. You can't just leave me hanging like that, could you just open up and show some genuine bloody emotion for once?" Then quieter, more calmly. "I deserve something Lucy, please."
"Fine!" She half-screamed. If he wanted her to show emotion, hell she would show it to him. "I'm in love with you!"
He was so taken aback that he couldn't even respond. This was everything he had ever wanted to hear and the emotions racing through him were so overwhelming all he could do was stare at her. Stare at her as she ranted and her face, her beautiful, brilliant face, flushed red with anger.
"Is that what you wanted from me?" she continued on "You wanted me to show my damn emotions so you could call me crazy? End the friendship? Well I'm done caring. I've wasted so much time caring. About what other people think, about what you think. I've kept my stupid feelings for you bottled up for years and they've just kept building and building and it's killing me!" she was on one now and there was no way she was stopping until all of it was out in the open. "I love you okay? And I have ever since I can remember. I have hid it. Denied it. I've done anything I could to keep you from finding out. From losing you. Because nothing, nothing is worse than unrequited love. So please, the pain is bad enough. Just please don't make this any harder on me." The last of it had taken everything she had. It had come out in an almost whisper and for a moment she thought he hadn't heard her over the wind. He was just staring there in disbelief. But she honestly couldn't care less. The tears were flowing now and all she wanted was to go in to her room and cry until she felt nothing again.
Unrequited love? Was she serious? She had to be. Her face was wet with tears and it didn't look like they were stopping anytime soon. But how absolutely blind could she be not to see how absolutely, madly in love with her he was?
He hated the look of complete and utter torment on her face. He never wanted to see her like this again. And to think he was the root of all her pain? Merlin, how he wanted to kiss her and make her see just how much she meant to him. He was never good with words so he wanted to take action. He wanted to kiss her like she had never been kissed before- so he did.
For once in his life he let his emotions get the best of him and he did what he had wanted to do for so, so long. He took her face in his hands and crushed his lips to hers. If she didn't want to listen to what he had to say, then maybe his actions would speak louder than his words.
She tasted like strawberries and cinnamon and her lips felt like rose petals. All he wanted was to get closer to her, to show her how irrevocably in love with her he was. This one simple kiss was the single most exhilarating thing he had ever felt. And he never wanted to stop. His skin burned where she touched him and his entire being was filled with an intensity that was like nothing he had ever felt before.
Kissing Lucy Weasley was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
The smell after it rains, the first chords of your favorite song, the light of the moon on the lake, fireworks, sunshine, daisies, chocolate, everything else that is good in the world. None of them could compare to kissing Lysander Scamander.
He was light and joy and music and she wanted nothing more than to soak him all in.
Without even a moment's thought or hesitation she had melted into him and returned his kiss with such passion that she surprised even herself.
And once she had started, merlin, she never wanted to stop. His touch burned through her, sending chills of longing up her spine.
He tasted like peppermint and his lips were like a drug. Just the slightest taste and she was hooked. She was addicted to the way he felt, his entire being, and no amount of rehabilitation would stifle the withdrawals now. Oh no, she was hooked on Lysander Scamander, and she was never going to get enough.
