**All characters, locations, etc. belong to J. K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended with the posting of this story.**
"Rose?"
She looked up at me from across the table, her eyes twinkling as she smiled.
"Yeah, Scorpius?"
"Nothing," I said, quickly changing my mind and looking back down at my history essay. "Forget it."
On my side, Al fake-coughed into his hand, his voice sounding suspiciously like "pansy." I reached over to slap my hand against his back, hitting him far too hard to be helping him.
"All right there, Al?" I asked, glaring at him as Rose returned to her work.
"I'll live," he responded. "Maybe I'd be a bit better if I went to talk to Glenna Brown, eh?"
Rose rolled her eyes. "What on earth do you see in her, Al?"
"Ah," Al said, putting on his trademark smirk. "The question is not what I see in her, but what Scorpius does."
I flicked my head over to look at him, giving him a glare that clearly said, "Leave. Now."
"I digress," Al conceded, getting to his feet. "See you later." And then the ponce actually went over to Glenna Brown. What an idiot.
I turned back to Rose and found her glaring at Glenna. Her eyes tightened as I watched.
"You know he doesn't actually fancy her."
"I know," Rose sighed, dipping her quill in her ink.
"Neither do I." The words came without my consent, and the moment they were out, I wanted them back. Rose's quill froze over her paper, a single drop of ink dripping onto the perfectly written essay.
"Right," she said. "Right…" her voice trailed off, and she seemed to be remembering something. After a moment, she put her quill down and rested her chin in her hands. Even though she was looking almost directly at me, I knew she wasn't seeing me.
My mind drifted to the question I was going to ask her. Was it possible? Al must have set it up, but even that didn't make sense. Ever since Milo had broken up with her, Rose had stopped wearing other people's clothes. She didn't even borrow Lily's makeup anymore. It had become an extremely sensitive topic, and I really didn't want to bring it up, but I was dying to know.
"So, have you two finished chatting yet?"
I didn't bother to look up; Rose didn't respond. Even though our non-actions should have given Al the information he so craved, he wouldn't bloody leave us alone.
"Well? Have you two had a nice chat about it? Maybe a little snuggle?"
Again, he got no response. However, it's own way, that lack of a response was a response in itself.
"Albus," a flirty, dead-annoying voice came from behind us. "Aren't you going to come back over? Grab your bag."
"Glenna," Rose greeted her classmate.
"Oh Rosie!" Glenna gushed. "Your shirt, wherever did you get it? I thought you said that you and Milo were over? But gosh, that must be his! Oh, you'll have to tell me all the details tonight!"
I could practically hear her smile, not to mention that she exclaimed everything in this fake, "Pay attention to me" voice. It served its purpose; everyone in the immediate area was staring at her. Rose looked exhausted just from listening to Glenna.
"Come on, Albie!" Glenna's fakeness was overpowering.
Albus made a face to me as he got up and Glenna immediately latched onto his arm. She dragged him across the Common Room.
"Albie?" Rose asked incredulously. "ALBIE?"
I closed my eyes and ran my hand over my face. "Apparently so."
Silence fell between us, but Rose didn't pick up her quill again. My mind flickered back to my question. Asking it would be risky, but Glenna had already brought it up…
"Rose?"
There was no smile on her face as she looked up this time. "What?"
I sighed heavily, half expecting her to kill me. "Your shirt..."
She cut me off. "I don't know, okay? I found it in my drawers and I thought it was mine. I don't know what Glenna was talking about!" Her voice grew hysterical. "I don't do that anymore; you know that! God, Scorpius, can't you just leave it alone?"
Rose took a deep breath and picked up her quill. She began to write with a level of ferocity that I had never seen before.
"Hey," I said. Instinct took over, and somehow my hand found its way onto her wrist. "Hey. I was only asking because that shirt…"
She stared at my hand on hers, tense, waiting.
"It's mine," I finished. My brain told me to let go of her wrist, to lean back and give her time to react, but my hand wouldn't comply.
"It's yours?" Rose asked, as if she couldn't quite comprehend it.
"Yeah," my voice sounded a lot braver than I felt. "Al must've snuck it into your drawers as a practical joke or something."
She didn't say anything. I couldn't help but think about how much time we spent sitting in awkward silence. Was it really so hard for me to talk to her? We'd only been best friends for three years, for God's sake!
Sighing, I took my hand off of her wrist. I pulled the book I'd been before the whole mess began in front of me, but I didn't read. There was only one thought racing through my mind, over and over.
What happens next?
Minutes passed. I turned the pages of my book periodically, but, honestly, I didn't even know the title anymore, much less what I was reading about. Rose's quill remained untouched, but I didn't look up at her. The tension was suffocating.
I found myself staring at her hands. They were the only part of her I could see while still "reading." She had beautiful hands. Her fingers were long and graceful, flowing out of her palms with a gentle curve. A dark blue—almost the same colour as her eyes—covered her nails, which were short and rounded. Her right hand tapped against the table, breaking the silence; her left sat next to her quill, the palm nearly black with ink.
A leftie. Her first Muggle primary school had tried to squash it out of her. After that, her mother had transferred her to another school, saying that some of the most famous people in history were left-handed.
Rose shifted in her chair, moving her dominant hand out of view as it came up to touch her hair. Involuntarily, my eyes followed it. To my surprise, her eyes were looking directly at me.
"Scorpius…" The single word—my name—had started off strong, but by the end, her eyes had drifted down the table and her voice was soft.
"Yeah, Rose?"
"Can I… do you… I…" she started about a thousand sentences, but she didn't seem able to finish any of them.
"The shirt?" I asked.
"Do you want it back?" she finally asked, closing her eyes quickly, but I saw the moisture building up inside.
I blinked. Hadn't been expecting that. "Do you want to give it back?"
Rose gulped, eyes still shut. "No."
Nodded. Swallowed. Tried to pick up the courage to speak. Tried infinitely harder not to hope.
"Okay, then. Keep it."
That awkward silence fell again. I cursed myself for even responding. Should have just nodded.
"What… What Milo said, though," Rose continued. "About this being only something you do with boyfriends."
I forced out a chuckle, trying to make myself sound far braver than I was. "Guess that means we're technically dating, yeah?"
"Yeah," Rose repeated. "Yeah."
A thought popped into my head. At first I wasn't going to say it. The more I thought about it, the worse of an idea it was. Don't do it, Scorpius. Really. Don't.
I would rather look back and wonder what I was thinking than look back and wonder what could have been.
The words weren't mine. They were Al's, something he'd said a long time ago. Why they came to me then, I have no idea. I hadn't thought about that phrase since he'd first said it, but suddenly it seemed to apply to me. And before I'd even really thought about it, the words came pouring out of my mouth.
"So, since we're technically dating, does that mean that I get to kiss you?"
Rose looked up, stunned. "I, um…" she fell silent for a second, contemplating. "Yeah."
My eyes grew wide. "Yes?"
She smiled, and the smile reached up to her eyes. "Yes."
My body reacted on instinct. I leaned in across the table; my eyes closed. We were so close; I could feel her body heat just centimeters away.
It was really happening. In a matter of second our lips would touch and…
"For the love of Merlin."
Al.
"I can't even bloody believe it."
He didn't sound excited, like he'd just found his best friend about to kiss the girl said best friend had fancied for years. He sounded majorly t-ed off.
Rose sighed, hearing the annoyance in his voice as well. She turned her head to look at him, and I opened my eyes.
Lipstick was smeared on his cheek; his unusually unruly black hair looked like something had died in it.
"What on earth happened to you?" The question spilled out, my tone slightly annoyed.
"Glenna. Stupid girl asked me to Hogsmede and then answered yes before I could even blink. She suddenly seems to think we're going out, and so she attacked me."
"Fab," I heard Rose whisper.
"Anyway, it's horribly depressing, so drop whatever you're doing. We're going to the kitchens."
Rose rolled her eyes. "Why would we do that?"
"I need a burrito," Al said, as if it were a perfectly legitimate craving.
"A burrito?" I asked. "As in, tortilla, meat, beans… that kind of burrito?
"Yes, Scorpius," Al exaggerated. "I know what a burrito is, and I need one."
"Fine," I said, getting up. Life was too short to waste my time pondering Al's sudden need for Mexican food. "Let's go.
Al was out the door before Rose had even stood up. Somehow, without thinking about it, my hand found hers, and I didn't drop it as we followed her cousin.
"By the way, Rose," Al spoke from in front of us, not even bothering to look back as he pressed on towards his burrito. "You're wearing Scorpius' shirt."
Rose smirked, squeezing my hand. "Oh really now?"
AN: We have many things to discuss today before we part, so excuse the slightly long author's note.
1.) Thanks to xXIceShadowXx and To Kill a Mockingjay for agreeing to beta this. It's always nice when I email you guys a story at 7:40 A.M. and you've both responded by noon. :)
2.) This two-shot does not stand alone! It is part of a writing project called Project PULL, started by yours truly and made awesome by the power of the Internet. Thank you so much to all the PULL participants. You guys are the reason that I want to get up in the morning.
3.) Okay, so xXIceShadowXx (Icelyn) read this (obviously) and told me that the greater FanFiction will not thinking of it as an ending. I quite like it like this, but alas, I am only the author. It isn't really my opinion that matters. So it's going to you guys. If you want there to be another chapter, say so in your review. I'm assume, by now, that you all know my feelings on reviews, so I won't repeat them.
4.) Also, about Icelyn. As I was writing this, I was talking to her and trying to think of an ending. All I could think about was burritos. Thanks, Icelyn, for making me listen to my muse and write a story including burritos. Even though said story is set in Scotland.
Thanks for reading, everyone!
-Bookaholic711
