A/N: I was originally intending to release this a day or so before Halloween, but I wasn't sure I'd have time, so this will have to be a week early; it's a little longer than most chapters, too. And I know all guys supposedly like mysterious girls or whatever, but adios to that garbage, because I think, in the long run, they'd appreciate a little predictability. Happy Halloween!
Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans
seven: pumpkin
He loves her because she's familiar.
If he closes his eyes, he can see the whale-shaped birthmark on her upper thigh, the pattern of freckles scattered across her arms, and her face as she falls asleep, frozen in an expression of peace. He has memorized everything about her.
Whenever her bottom lips starts to quiver in that devastating way, he can tell that she's on the verge of tears. Whenever that mysterious glint shines in her eyes – the one he sees so often – he feels her pure, naked fear sparking to life, and, Merlin, it burns him.
Sometimes, he knows her better than he knows himself.
And maybe it's not the best analogy or the most flattering, but he thinks that she's like a pumpkin at the Halloween feast, with a candle that flickers so brightly that everyone is compelled to stare; if there were no pumpkins, how would they know it was Halloween? And he knows this thought is ridiculous, somewhere in his mind, but he also knows that Halloween is not really Halloween without pumpkins.
And he doesn't think life is really life without her, because she's like his home.
He doesn't try to escape it because she's Lily Evans, and maybe he should want excitement and mystery and unknown things in her but he doesn't; he just wants her passion and her laughter and her bright green eyes to stay familiar to him because sometimes she's everything he knows in the world and he loves her for it.
