"hey, this fire, it's burning, BURNING US UP"
* rosescorpius.
The pair sits on the muddy ground, wet brown soaking through their clothing. The stars are out tonight, burning white-hot specks into the never-ending canvas of navy, and it is, simply, a masterpiece.
"Hey, Scorpius."
"Yes, Rose?"
"You reckon he really loves me?"
He pauses and takes a minute to answer. "Who?"
"My boyfriend, Scorp. You know, Lysander."
This is the moment that defines them. The stars glare defiantly down at him and every fibre of his being screams at him to TELL HER. He angles his head to the side and catches her looking at him earnestly, hope shining in her eyes, and –
"Yeah, Rose. I reckon he really, really does."
He almost adds, But I do more.
She smiles at him. It almost numbs the pain.
a/n: i'm not too sure how i'm feeling about this one, though it doesn't feel particularly good...