:::

Pairing: James/Rose

:::

It's a little bit of everything – and there's no possibility of going back.

:::

They're the contradiction of all contradictions.

But then again, maybe they're not.

And really, that's kind of the whole point of it all, isn't it?

:::

It's a little bit like laughing so much that you're crying.

:::

He's ten years old when they're at the Burrow on a blazing hot day in the middle of July and she pushes her entire ice cream cone right in his face.

He's never laughed so hard in his entire life.

It serves her right, really, because she's only seven years old at the time, and he's been teasing her all day, because she's way more fun to tease than his baby sister Lily. But now he's got his punishment, because there is vanilla in his eyes and strawberry dripping down his neck and he's laughing, laughing, laughing so hard that he almost can't breathe. And she just stares at him, eyes full of angry tears, because she's not enjoying this at all – and he simply wipes his hand across his cheeks and licks the ice cream off his fingers.

"Rosie…"

She frowns, all stubborn and angry – the perfect combination of her parents – and she pushes him against his shoulder.

"It's not funny, James!"

He's still laughing out loud and then he wraps his arms around her and hugs her close against his body, spinning her around, kissing her cheeks and forehead until she's completely covered in the melting ice cream as well.

She struggles to get away, and tries to act angry, but she's actually laughing almost just as hard as him, right through her tears.

:::

It's a little bit like crying so much that you're laughing.

:::

He's sixteen years old and she's only thirteen, so whoever the little bastard may be that broke her heart, he sure as hell is going to pay for it.

She sneaks right up the stairs into the boys' dormitory and crawls up into bed with him, wrapping his tired arm around her shoulder, burying her face into the crook of his neck, the cruel evidence of heartbreak written out with the tears all over her face.

"James…"

Her voice is slurred with pain and the second he notices she's shaking, he's fully awake.

"Rosie, what happened?"

She cries into his pillow and tells him everything and he just holds her close to him and watches her sleep and protects her all through the night until the dawn breaks and he's got to leave her alone, to go to Quidditch practice.

When she walks into the Great Hall, though, a few hours later, she finds out that Felix Goldstein is now in the Hospital Wing with a broken nose and a strange charm on his sleeve, that makes him keep on poking himself with his own wand.

She looks at James from across the table, and he just smiles at her, and even though her cheeks are still wet with tears, she kind of feels like laughing as well.

:::

It's a little bit like crying and laughing at the same time.

:::

He's twenty-three years old and he's lying with his back on the ground, in the pouring rain and she's lying right next to him, softly smiling at the way the rain seems to wash everything off of their shoulders.

"You know, people have this weird opinion on rain," she starts off. "They think you're not supposed to let yourself get wet by it. Like it's bad for you or anything. That's why they invented those stupid umbrella's and stuff."

He softly turns his gaze and grins. "People are ridiculous."

She kisses him, full on his mouth and he kisses her back. And maybe it's what people could call love. But that would be ridiculous, wouldn't it?

:::

You see, it's actually a little bit of everything; of laughing and crying and ice cream and boyfriends and talking in the rain. It's all shades of wrong and all kinds of right and really, it's contradiction after contradiction, but maybe she loves him a little bit and maybe he loves her little bit back, and that's sort of an equality, isn't it?

So maybe it's also kind of ok.