a/n: so i have this story called euphoria right. well, found the prompt list. had the first like twenty erased so assumed i was on the prompt bumblebee. went to update it. lol. i was not on bumblebee. i had already written for bumblebee.

and that folks is the story of how this hideous one-shot came to be. yay for my dumbness. more rosescorp for you, i suppose.

dedicated to the lovely downstage. aka louise aka loser face. ily boo. :*

Rose Weasley sat in the high grass growing behind the Burrow against a tree, a book in her lap and her nose twitching every time the wind blew. Her legs were itchy and she was annoyed, but she didn't want to go inside just yet. The sun hadn't even begun to set yet and it was a beautiful day out. Plus, Albus had friends over and all of his friends were dicks, especially his best friend. No way was she going to walk into that snake den defenseless. That would be suicide. No thank you.

Don't get her wrong, she loved her cousin dearly.

But when he was around his friends, it was too much. He was different; Colder. Not the Albus she'd grown up with, not at all. Glancing back down at her book, she tried to focus on the words. It wasn't difficult once she was sucked in and before long she was in her own world once more, following the characters along for one wild adventure after another.

That was, until...

A constant buzzing sound rang in her ears and for a moment Rose honestly thought she was hearing things. Glancing around, she searched for the perpetrator, annoyance thick in her veins. It seemed she could do nothing today, could not be left alone for a few moments, could read nowhere. Not inside, not out.

She was too annoyed to continue her search for whatever was making that noise and instead stood up, grabbing her shoes and her book and moving to make her way back to the Burrow. It looked like she'd just have to hide in her Aunt Ginny's old bedroom until Al's friends were gone. Rose frowned. No. She was not Lucy or Lily. She would not hide.

If they wanted to be cruel to her, well. She could be cruel right back.

Not paying attention where she was stepping with her bare feet was probably one of Rose's biggest mistakes. Especially in the summertime, with all the bugs and flies. Luckily, someone else was doing so for her.

Making her way out of the tall grass, she stepped into a gorgeous patch of flowers. Too bad she wanted to crush them all. She was in the process of beginning to stomp on a particularity pretty yellow one, when a voice stopped her from making potentially a very large mistake.

"Do not move."

A voice froze her, foot midair, back suddenly straight. All of her hair seemed to stand up straight, as if the strands could just sense an enemy nearby. They sensed right. She knew that voice; knew it all too well. She could hear it in the back of her mind, taunting her. Ever since first year, always with the comments on her frizzy hair and crooked teeth and ability to memorize random facts; and he, six foot one, blonde hair, silver eyes, ice in his veins. So basically, he was an Adonis – had always been, for as long as she could remember.

But she wasn't twelve anymore. She was seventeen years old, had graduated Hogwarts, was going on to do great things. She was going to be a Healer, or maybe she'd become a Minister or a best selling novelist or maybe she'd be the fucking Head Mistress at Hogwarts. She could do anything, could be anything. She was not that awkward, uncomfortable, scared little girl she used to be that would just let them walk all over her. She'd sprouted into a god damn Athena.

"Don't tell me what to do!" She scowled at him, going to put her foot down. That was when she looked below it and saw the bumblebee below it. The buzzing she'd heard suddenly made sense. She felt dizzy with fear. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Even worse, she felt a sense of relief and thankfulness, directed towards Captain Dick Soup himself.

Shit.

She wanted to throw up. She hated herself so much for all of the things she was feeling in that moment, for the cause of all those things, for reacting the way she was, for him even being there to start with. Why was he even there, again? Her thoughts were everywhere, like someone had taken her brain and held it upside down so all of her thoughts could scatter across the ground. She wasn't far behind.

She'd spend the rest of her life mildly embarrassed over the shriek she let out… and how she lost her balance and fell backwards, landing hard on her bum.

She stared up at Scorpius with wide eyes.

"What – why – how?" There were too many words, too many questions that wanted to fall from her lips. They were pushing at each other all trying to make it out, but only bits and pieces of incoherency made it through.

What was he even doing out here? And how on earth did he know she was allergic to bees? None of it made any sense to Rose. She tried to grasp for comprehension, feeling lost and uncomfortable and weirdly warm. She didn't like this. It was weird, it was different, it made no sense to her whatsoever.

Scorpius just smirked. His hands stayed in his pockets, his stance was casual, but his eyes were cloudy. She couldn't even look at them. They made her feel even weirder than before. They made her feel warm inside. What. The. Hell.

"Wouldn't want you to have to go to Saint Mungo's, now would we?" He said simply, before turning and beginning to walk away.

"But… wait!" She pushed herself off of her bum and stood, running towards him. She made sure to avoid the bumblebee this time. "How did you know that? And why are you even out here to start with?" She all but yelled at him, hand finding his arm and grasping him to pull him around to look at her.

His expression stayed the same. Rose wanted to scream at him.

And then, a little smirk appeared in the corner of her mouth. She released his arm.

"I happen to like the view."

He turned and walked away.

Rose stood there, holding her book to her chest, feeling oddly like a school girl with a crush. Which was completely ridiculous because she didn't have a crush on anyone… did she?

And, what about the view?

Was he?

He wasn't.

But?

He wasn't talking about her was he?

Blinking, she stared after him. That was when she realized he was walking away from her again. No. She would not let him leave until he explained himself. And that was that!

"Wait just a minute!" Stumbling after him on wobbly legs, she nearly fell into him when she finally caught up with him.

"What now?" The annoyance in his voice made her shrink back just slightly, but she scowled at him none the less and met his gaze.

"How do you know I'm allergic to bees? And why are you out here to start with? Why are you walking away, why weren't you answering any of my questions? And what's this about a bloody view? What the hell are you even on about?" She was on a tangent now, rambling about things she could barely even comprehend coming out of her mouth. She prayed he'd shut her up quickly because at this point there was no stopping the word vomit.

And oh, did he shut her up.

With his mouth.

On her mouth.

What was even going on?

All she could think about in that moment was how soft his lips were against hers. Oh and also, what the hell was happening right then? Pushing him away roughly, she opened her mouth to shout at him. No words came out. She was sure she looked wild, with her red hair curly and her brown eyes wild and confused and her lips, probably cherry red and swollen. Her cheeks tinged pink.

"I- I'm- UGH!" She stomped her feet, annoyance making room in her veins for frustration. "You're so dumb!" She let out finally. Her anger only grew when he started laughing at her. Now it was her turn to shut him up.

Reaching out, she grabbed his collar and pressed her lips hard against his. Mouth moving roughly against his, tongue tangling with his, fighting for dominance she quickly won. Yeah, that's right. Who was laughing now? Her!

That was, until his cold fingers cupped her cheek and slowed her kiss down and made her stomach feel like Pompeii probably did while it was being swallowed whole in fire and lava. Oh. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. She knew this feeling, knew it well. She'd felt it before. The bitter sweet sting worse than a bumblebee - the sting of love.

It was gross and disgusting and you didn't even have to be allergic to it for it to kill you.

Rose knew then she should have pulled away, should have pushed on his chest, stomped on his foot, and probably released his collar so they could detach their lips. She was going to do that, yeah.

She pulled him closer (on accident of course).

When they pulled away from each other, there were no epic declarations of love, no 'be my boyfriend, be my girlfriend's.

There was simply this: a smile, small but growing in size quickly; a blush hot as the sun; fingers, brushing fingers; and two sets of bruised lips, desperately wanting to meet each other once more.

(Rose's appreciation for bumblebees grew quite a bit that day.)