Prompt: 012. Orange
Word Count: 255
Montague had no idea why he, once again, was serving detention with her.
Scratching his head, he asked, "Now, what did I do to deserve this?"
Angelina shot a scowl his way. "You changed Fred into a mousetrap!"
"Oh," Montague shrugged, before resuming his task. When he realized what Angelina had said, he turned around quickly. "Did it work?"
Angelina studied his curious expression before she shrugged in response. Montague grimaced and finished his Blast-Ended Skrewt pen.
"McGonagall got him to the Hospital Wing, so I suppose it worked..." she said, grinning mischievously when she saw he had finished his task.
Montague threw his hands up in annoyance.
"So what am I actually doing here?" he inquired, curious as to how he had been dragged into yet another one of her hare-brained schemes. Angelina gave him a smile every guy would die for.
"You just helped me. Thank you." Her eyes glimmered in the fading light. Montague groaned and cursed himself.
"You should have been a Slytherin," he spat, completely frustrated.
"Is that any way to talk?" she teased, walking over to him. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, hands resting on his chest. "There," she said, brushing his hair back from his eyes.
Their eyes met and in that moment, time seemed to stop as the sky changed colors from blue to purple to pink. He couldn't say who reached for who first. All he knew was the fizzy sensation of kissing Angelina Johnson under the orange glow of sunset.
