pairing: fred/molly
prompt: pretty
author: robb-starks
She's a prettypretty haze of bouncing red curls and sparkling hazel eyes, always wearing a faint aura of mischief and a cheeky smile. She's got the skill of looking innocent down to a fine art, and sometimes he hates it and sometimes he ador- um, thinks it's pretty cool, y'know.
She bounds up to him one lunchtime by the lake, her hair sort of bound back with what looks like one of her older sister Lucy's Quidditch bandanas, curls escaping all over the place and framing her face in a shower of red ringlets.
"If James asks," she tells him, eyes dancing with laughter, pushing a strand of hair irritably behind her ear, the words spilling out of her in a near-incomprehensible rush, "I've been with you this whole time."
Fred is wiser to her schemes than to ask, and so he just nods and grins because in the sunlight she's all different shades of pretty, with the freckles on the bridge of her nose all scrunched up and her whole being screaming mischief.
"Freddie," she complains, tugging at his sleeve, and he just folds his arms and raises an eyebrow down at her.
"Isn't it time you started acting your age?" he inquires, and there's a hint in his voice that lets her know he's teasing. She frowns, brows flashing quickly down over glinting eyes, and she punches him once, hard, in the arm.
"I'm fifteen, I can act however I bloody want! And," she continues, suddenly flopping down to sit next to him, "I'm only a year younger than you. So you should start acting your age before I do."
Fred settles down next to her, a cousinly (ahem) arm around her shoulders, and together they watch the sun set over the Black Lake and bicker about important (pointless) things.
a/n: please don't favourite/alert without reviewing, thanks.
