Dean: Red
He shades the figure, frowning. It's not right. He flips the pencil (quills are rubbish for sketching) and erases the line. He begins again, trying to get the curve of the hip exact, the shape of her smile, the way the wind tossed her hair.
For how long he's taking (especially in comparison to his usual speed) he should be done. Yet even when he leans back, taking in the sketch. To a casual observed it does look finished yet Dean knows it isn't. It's not right – it's not perfect. Especially without color.
Red is filled in. He tilts his head, trying to mimic the uniqueness, the hair that is her. When he leans back at last, he hopes that this time he has it right.
It's not though. Dean crumples the paper, throwing it amongst the others scattered about the tent. How could he ever hope to capture Ginny on paper, when he couldn't capture her in reality?
Okay, this one is longer than usual. Couldn't bring myself to shorten it – this is quite possibly my favorite so far.
Thank you to all of my reviewers – next chapter should be Severus!