Word Count: 324
There's something so mesmerizing about watching Draco step onto the beach, his bare feet sinking into the warm, white sand. For several moments, Astoria can only watch him, smiling to herself. Draco is the type of person to bare his soul; they have been together for two years, engaged for a month, and she can't read him the way she reads others.
But he looks so serene now as the warm breeze blows, ruffling his white-blond hair. All the stress and pain seems to melt away until all that is left is the man she loves.
As if he can feel her staring, Draco turns, folding his arms over his chest and tapping his foot impatiently. "Are you just going to stand there, Tori?" he asks, smirking when she scowls at the nickname. "We're supposed to have fun, remember?"
She snorts, kicking off her sandals and dropping them into her bag. "And what do you know about fun?" she counters playfully, stepping onto the beach. The sand is warm against her feet, and she feels so alive the moment the grains meet her sole. "Aren't you the bloke who stays in his study, all busy and such?"
"So, you have jokes? Amazing."
Astoria links her arm with his. He has come a long way since the broken mess of a man he had been immediately following the war. He smiles more brightly now, and there's a twinkle in his eyes. He isn't haunted anymore, and she is so proud of who he has become.
"I know I'm handsome," he chuckles, "but the best view is that way. People come to the beach to admire the scenery, not other people."
Once upon a time, Astoria had believed that true love was a myth. Her parents had been an exception, and everyone around them seemed to be trapped in loveless marriages.
Draco has proven her wrong. Just this once, maybe she doesn't mind not being right.
