a/n: Back to my old tricks, that is to say, plot-less fics. I tried, I actually did try to give this a story, but Dominique and Lorcan just wanted to be written. I like the emotion and the descriptions, and I'm really interested to hear what y'all think. Two stories in one day: an unusual occurrence from me. But I'm a cheater, this doesn't count as two. I wrote this a while ago (actually with Teddy and Vic (*sigh*) and just now got around to publishing. Author fail.

LorcanDom

Word count: 1,083

Feeling so ambitious

You and me, flesh to flesh

-Your Call, Secondhand Serenade

pretty smiles dull sharp edges

He likes her like this, all smooth and liquid in his arms. He likes her teeth glinting in the dim light as her cherry lips pull into a wide smile; he like her hair cascading down the well-worn arm of the chair, a waterfall of pure platinum; he likes her eyes, impossibly bright with a mischievous light peeking through the navy blue; he likes, no he loves, her arms winding tightly around him as she mutters threats about never, ever letting him go.

That chair by the fire, the one that's been worn thread-bare by countless studious Ravenclaws, nestling into its velvet depths to escapee into a book, school work, a lover. Sometimes it is moved, adjusted until it faces the sun's gentle rays, but it's always there and it's always been their place.

She loves him. She loves him. She loves him. Loves loves loves loves loves. The realization makes her chest rise and her heart beat erratically. Dominique is a girl of reason, of white and black and no shades of grey because that's how the world words and emotions are silly, useless excuses for silly, useless people and love just doesn't exist, okay? But it does, it does, it does, and this hits her like a ton of bricks. She almost cries out, the figurative blow causing very real pain, but then she sees his face and she's left voiceless and breathless and it doesn't hurt so much anymore because he's like sunshine and summer and his smile heals.

He saw it long before her. He's the Ravenclaw, no Hufflepuff, no, RAVENCLAW (Are you sure, child? the hat asked.), so he's always been bright. He knew, from the very start he knew, that this is love, the real kind, just like Cathy and Heathcliff, except they aren't terrible, selfish people, he hopes.

He's always been a dreamer, head in the clouds, so he never didn't believe in love. Even as she lectured about love just being hormones, but yes, she'll go out with him, and my, it took him long enough to ask; he knew even then that it was, or would evolve to be, love. After she said yes, they snogged, he remembers fondly, leaning down to press a kiss to the hair of the girl in his arms, the very same girl as his memory and in all of his dreams.

"Mmmmm," she sighs from his arms, smiling contentedly up at him.

He loves that smile, the one where she parts her lips only a bit, letting them rise into an honest show of affection instead of her usual smirk. He loves how her eyes crinkle a bit whilst sparkling a lot. That smile, he knows, is his. It never shines for anyone else; she never shines for anyone else.

"Yeah," he agrees, but to nothing in particular. The moment, maybe, maybe he just agrees to the moment, he doesn't know. What he does know is that he wishes he could stay like this forever because this, her in his arms with that wonderful smile, is heaven.

She smiles up at him, brighter than the sun, and he is dazzled for a minute. She's breathtaking. She's perfection, pouty pink lips, long silver-gold hair, wide navy eyes framed by unusually dark lashes. And oh Merlin, there she goes smiling again and now he really, truly can't breathe because she's so her, so Dominique, and he could never want anything more.

She settles into his lap a little more, wriggling her lithe body further into his. She burrows her head into his chest, just breathing in his perfect scent of apples and grass and spicy cinnamon. She doesn't know exactly what she likes best about him, but if she had to make a list, his amazing smell would be high on it. Also his hair, she thought, running her fingers through said locks. He exhales with pleasure, his hair changing colors as he watches with a grin her smiling in response. He always changed his hair for her, making it hot pink or bright yellow just to see her lips part and her eyes sparkle with curiosity, wonder, love.

"I love you," she whispers into his chest, voice quiet so as not to break this crystal moment. And it's the first time she's uttered these words, but not anywhere near the first time she's felt them.

"I know," he smiles fondly. Her eyes widen in surprise, her declaration not having been met by the adequate amount of shock. "And of course," he chuckles, a low rumbling sound that makes his chest vibrate against her lean form, "I love you back."

The sunlight sparkles around the entwined pair, lighting them both so that their skin sparkles and they look like Greek gods for a moment, but then the glass shatters and they go back to being people, the children of heroes but not two immortal gods.

She's perfection, but not quite because there exists no such thing as perfection in the world, as she'd say. And he's incredible, but not really because he feels quite ordinary most of the time. She's logic, logic, logic and hard facts with solid lines that have no in-between because she can't tell, she can't make definitive decisions when there's more than just options, when there's emotions. She's hard, never bending because bending means breaking. But he's here and he's holding her and she's finding herself loose and liquid in his arms with smiles coming easy and a radiance making her glow, inside and out.

And he likes her like this, when she leaves it all behind and just lets herself feel and love and shine. He likes her, no he loves her like this, he loves her shining.

a/n: If you liked this enough to favorite or put on alert, please don't forget to review!