Chapter Eight: Not-Angry

Rose was muttering to herself, paintbrush against the canvas, building a layer of yellow paint: "When life gives me lemons, apparently I paint lemons."

Beside her, Laila snorted.

They were sprawled across Rose's living room, canvas cloth laid down on her coffee table beneath their tabletop easels. Paint bottles and brushes were propped in between them as they both attempted to recreate a lemon painting Laila had found in an art book. Rose had managed the background okay—a pale blue sky—and the branches, but the lemons hanging off the branches were looking a little lumpy.

"When life gives me lemons, I throw them at my enemies," Laila contributed. Rose glanced at her canvas; Laila's lemons, while a little less yellow, looked much smoother.

"I don't really have enemies." Rose leaned back, squinting at her painting. "As of right now, lemons are my enemies."

Laila dropped her paint brush into her water cup before reaching up to re-clip a stray lavender strand that had come undone while painting. "Don't blame the poor lemons. They've done nothing to you."

"Life uses them as a method of testing my patience."

"It's not bad, you know," Laila said, observing Rose's painting. "Once you add the details and the leaves, they'll look pretty good."

"Maybe," she said, grinning. "But I've decided painting is something I'm allowed to be bad at."

Since neither of them could afford regular paint lessons without dipping into their savings, they'd decided to imitate Paint-and-Wine in Rose's living room. While it wasn't as effective as having an actual art teacher, they were certainly enjoying themselves by sharing a bottle of wine, playing music over the Wizarding Wireless in the background and pretending they knew how to paint.

"Are you not allowed to be bad at other things?" Laila asked.

"I've recently become bad at running." Rose gestured to her leg, making Laila laugh, "and having existential crises."

"Ah, Scorpius Malfoy has entered the conversation."

"He has not." When Rose had calmed down after their argument, she could recognize the impossible situation he was in: find a good story by the deadline for their next monthly issue of Quidditch World, or face Barnes and his new understanding of economics. Scorpius was practically broke and told her as much, and she also knew that with the whole situation surrounding Albus and Orion, he was also looking for a new, affordable flat. Losing his job wasn't an option at the moment.

Rose didn't have that same tie to her job, thanks to her Quidditch league earnings. She had loads of savings, but it didn't feel appropriate to mention it to Scorpius.

Still, spying was despicable, and no matter how much Scorpius hated doing it, he had done it. She wasn't sure how she would be able to convince Emily to share her personal stories with a magazine, but at least she hadn't spied on her to do it.

"This isn't about him, it's about SoulMates," Rose continued, choosing another paintbrush and dipping it in dark green paint. "The gravity of my situation is hitting me."

"That your soulmate is unknown?"

"That they might be unknown forever. They could be dead, for all I know," she clarified, glancing over to Laila. "You went through this. You know what I mean."

Laila sighed. "I try not to think about it. But yes, I do."

Over the last few days, it occurred to Rose that she'd really fucked up her life by doing the SoulMate test. If she—and the rest of the wizarding population—had properly thought it through, she would've realized that having an unknown soulmate was an absolute nightmare. Not only could she never find her soulmate, she found it impossible to imagine committing to someone who wasn't predetermined for her.

It almost felt like cheating—not only on her soulmate, but her potential future.

It was an overwhelming and crushing crisis that she was trying to push down and forget about. Not to mention Scorpius, who was definitely flirting with her and giving her heart palpitations every other day. She swore he would've kissed her the other day at the Quidditch pitch if she'd stayed even a moment longer, and that would've sent her into another spiral.

SoulMates didn't advertise the existential crises they caused, did they?

"Do you think," Rose asked carefully as she outlined the leaves over her lemons, "you would still be with Amir if you weren't soulmates?"

"Considering we only met because of SoulMates, probably not."

"But if you met otherwise," Rose pressed, "and you knew you weren't each other's soulmates, but you really connected… would you?"

Laila finished mixing some yellow and green paint before answering. "My inclination is to say no. Just because we were both trying to meet as many people to find our soulmates, and I also turned down other men I really fancied because of the situation."

"You did?"

"I never fell in love with them," she clarified, "but yes. I truly believe I never would've met Amir if I wasn't looking for my soulmate, and my soulmate only."

Rose felt deflated, but tried not to show it. "Right, that makes sense."

"But if I had fallen in love with Amir without meaning to, and we weren't soulmates…" She shrugged. "I honestly don't know. Would've been kinda hot, in a forbidden-romance sort of way."

Rose laughed, feeling the blush rising on her cheeks. She busied herself in filling in the leaves with the dark green. "That's sort of how it feels, actually."

"Could you be with someone who isn't your soulmate?" Laila asked gently, smiling sympathetically. "If you really loved them?"

"I have no idea." And that was the honest, raw truth of it. Rose was far too logical to jump into something that didn't make sense. "I did love my ex-boyfriend. At first, anyway."

"Was he the one who got away?"

"No," Rose snorted. "He used to get so angry about my Quidditch schedule. Like I had a choice. He thought I should've been the housewife type—cooking, doing the laundry for him, all that."

Laila raised an eyebrow. "In this economy?"

"Honestly," she agreed, "though I think he was a bit thick. I still don't know how to cook much beyond eggs and baked beans on toast. And I really do prefer to work."

"He must've really had his blinders on."

"I'm hoping whoever my soulmate is will accept me as I am." In the back of her head, something nudged at her as if to say, Scorpius thinks you're a talented writer and isn't pushing you back towards Quidditch. She nudged it back into place.

Laila, however, had other plans. "I think you should just tell Scorpius you love him."

Rose turned to Laila, moving sharply. "What?"

"What's the big deal?" she asked, calmly dotting her lemons. "He likes you as you are. You're both unknowns, no idea if you'll ever find your soulmates. You're obviously interested in each other—"

"That's completely hypothetical, actually—"

"—so why not just get it over with and tell him?" Laila leaned back, looking satisfied with the lemon texture she had created. "Maybe that's what you both need to move on."

There was some sense in what Laila was saying, not that Rose was sure it was the right idea. Assuming Laila was correct, that Scorpius did like Rose in that way—not that she was convinced it was more than just superficial attraction—the entire ordeal would make things awkward, and at worst, unbearable. Their lives were intertwined whether she confessed her feelings or not.

"It's a big deal," Rose said softly, "because soulmates work out ninety-nine percent of the time. But Scorpius and I might not. It's only a fifty-fifty chance."

"We actually don't know if things work out," Laila said. "Nothing in life is definite. Family, careers, definitely not soulmates…" She shook her head, grinning. "We're not even sure that one damn painting will work out."

Rose looked back at her lumpy lemons and laughed.

Rose had decided not to tell Scorpius that she had feelings for him, and she was re-thinking that decision in her mind for just about the two-hundred-and-fifty-sixth time when she was making her way up to his flat. She could hear the music from the stairwell—definitely Albus' doing, foregoing that silencing spell—and as she reached their floor, it hit her that she'd done it again. No cane, no leg pain, all the way up three flights of stairs.

Was her leg even in pain?

Like her body had a sick sense of humour, she felt a twinge up her shin as soon as she got to the front door. It felt like disappointment, but also…relief? Why was she relieved that her leg still hurt?

Rose let herself into their flat, full of people she'd seen Albus, Orion and Scorpius hang out with. Admittedly, she had turned up quite late to Scorpius' celebration because she wasn't sure she was going to go. The entire conversation with Laila had set off a restless night of indecision. She'd dressed and undressed so many times that the waistband of her blue corduroy skirt had started to become loose.

Rose had kept thinking that she really shouldn't go to this party. That if she wasn't going to act on her feelings, she should really stay far away from Scorpius. They already worked together, and that was hard enough.

But for some reason, she felt she needed to go. Like she couldn't stay away.

In the end, she was glad she'd come, even if she didn't stay longer than one drink; she really did want to celebrate his publication. As she searched for a drink, she saw smokey golden letters magically hung in the air along the entrance wall spelling, 'Congratulations Scorpius'. Definitely Orion's work; it was the same way the SoulMates logo was conjured up at the gala.

Rose pushed through to the kitchen and found him, drinking a beer in the corner. She grabbed one for herself from the fridge and joined him, following his line of sight; through the kitchen entrance, Orion was watching Albus and Ethan, standing in the living room with their drinks.

"Alright?" she asked Orion, a bit uneasily.

"Nope." He popped the p in the word, tearing his eyes away from Albus. "But it's okay."

"Is it?" She screwed the lid off her beer and took a swing, leaning against the counter beside him. "I heard you two had a bad row."

"That's true."

"You're giving up the flat and everything."

"Albus is thinking of quitting his job at the office, too," Orion said glumly, slurring his t's. "Did he tell you that?"

That hit Rose in the gut; she hadn't known, though to be fair, she hadn't seen Albus lately. He hadn't yet responded to her note to meet up. "No, he didn't mention that."

"It's okay," Orion repeated firmly, as though he was trying to convince himself. "Honestly, I'm happy for him. He deserves to be happy."

She gave him a sad smile. "He wanted to be happy with you. You know that, right?"

"I know." He took a deep breath, in and out. "This is only what I deserve. Stringing him along this long, and…"

Rose waited but he trailed off, unable to finish his thought. With a nod to her, he stumbled off, disappearing into the crowd. It occurred to her that if this was going to last, if Albus really wasn't going to wait for Orion anymore, they would find a new living arrangement, Albus would leave his job… everything was going to change.

And change, as sure as it was, was very unappealing.

She was watching Orion wedge himself on the couch when she saw Scorpius, talking to a man in one corner of the room, someone she didn't recognize. Scorpius was wearing a white t-shirt and dark wash jeans, a rare occurrence for him. Rose instantly wished he could wear this every day, if only for the perfect view of his bum.

Scorpius sidled next to Rose when she was nearing the end of her drink, seeming as pleased as Orion was miserable. She didn't look at him, even as he bumped his arm gently against hers.

"I'm still annoyed at you," she said, draining her bottle.

"Downgraded from angry. I'll take it."

Her lips twitched despite herself. "Shut it."

Scorpius nudged her arm again, leaning into her. He didn't seem drunk at all, though she smelled alcohol on his breath. "I'm glad you came. Even though this isn't a big deal. I think Albus and Orion just wanted an excuse to throw a party."

"You getting published is a big deal," she said, frowning.

"Most of my uni friends have already had articles in The Prophet."

"That doesn't take away from it." She held up her empty bottle and smiled at him. "Congratulations."

He grinned back as he clinked his bottle against hers. "Thanks for coming. I thought… well, after the other day…"

"I may have been a bit late," she admitted, feeling her face going pink, "but I wouldn't have missed this. Even if I'm still angry with you."

"Ah, back to angry," Scorpius said, heaving an exaggerated sigh.

Rose chuckled, shifted from one leg to the other; as soon as she thought about it, the ache had come back in full force. "I might head out soon, though. My leg's acting up, Orion's miserable…"

"I saw you talking to him." He braced his hands against the counter behind him. "It's sweet that you're trying, but you know you can't help them, right? They have to figure things out for themselves."

"Something's just not adding up," Rose said hesitantly, mostly because she couldn't explain why her gut was unsure about their entire situation. She put her empty bottle down behind her and opened her purse. "Anyway, I got you something."

Scorpius' eyebrows jumped up. "You—what?"

"I didn't get a chance to wrap it, sorry," she lied. The real reason was because she wasn't sure she was going to give it to him and had nearly wimped out, but grabbed the gift and stuffed it in her purse at the last second. Rose was just glad it hadn't gotten bent up.

She pulled out the notebook she'd found at Flourish and Blotts, originally intending to give him a novel—all writers had too many notebooks—but this one was so nice, she couldn't find anything else that was better. Scorpius took the journal, turning it over in his hands, feeling the smooth brown leather under his fingers. He flipped through and found her note on the first page; she supposed it was too much to hope that he'd find it after she'd gone, but such was her luck.

Scorpius,

I never properly thanked you for everything you've done for me this year, have I? I came into Quidditch World without a clue and you never judged me for it. I wouldn't have lasted a week. Honestly cannot thank you enough.

Congratulations, it's no surprise to me that your article has been published in a distinguished paper like The Daily Prophet. The only surprise is that it hasn't happened sooner. Over the last year, I've realized that you don't see things like other people do. Your intuition is something else. I hope you keep pushing your writing, because you truly deserve to be published wherever you want to be.

Rose

"It's not much, honestly," she said hastily when he didn't reply, staring at her note. "I just thought—"

"You," he said, looking up at her, clearly trying and failing to contain his grin, "are so fucking cute."

Any reply Rose might've had died in her throat as he gestured her to follow him. Weaving through the crowd, Scorpius led her to the end of the hall and into what must be his bedroom. She followed him inside and closed the door behind her, muffling the sounds of the party, her heart beating loudly in her ears as she wondered, did he really just say that?

Though she had been at their flat numerous times before, she'd never actually seen Scorpius' room. It was similar to Al's; his bed was pushed up against the window in the middle of the room, a wardrobe in one corner of the room, his desk crammed into the opposite corner next to a small, overfilled bookshelf of tattered-looking books. Rose moved towards his desk, eyes moving across the countless number of articles pinned to a bulletin board.

Scorpius lit the lamp on his nightstand before placing the journal down on it. He was always so careful with his things at work, she wasn't surprised to see him the same way at home. He sat down at the edge of his bed. "You should sit. You said your leg's acting up."

Rose didn't have the nerve to sit next to him (after he said that), and the chair from his desk was missing—probably in the living room, shifted there for the party—so she sat across from him on his desk, which was (of course) very tidy. She knew she was looking anywhere but him and being very obvious about it. "I like your bookshelf."

He chuckled. "I figured you would."

"I am a fan of anything that houses books," she said, setting her purse down beside her. "What about the party? Won't you be missed?"

"I don't care."

Rose laughed, albeit nervously.

"Listen, I just wanted to tell you properly—I really am sorry about the other day," he said, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. "I know I shouldn't have been spying."

"I understand why you did it." She gripped the edge of his desk, looking down at the skirt covering her knees. She hadn't forgiven him for it, but she said it anyway. "I don't agree with it, but losing your job right now would be difficult. So I get it."

There was a loud round of cheers coming from the living room. Rose glanced at the door, but Scorpius seemed unconcerned, flicking a Silencing spell at the door. "I've started looking around for a new job."

She met his gaze then. "You have?"

"I think it's best," he said, shrugging. "I like working with you, but if Barnes is going to be on my back for every issue of that stupid magazine, especially for gossip, and no raises…"

Rose bit her lip, guilty that she didn't have the same money worries, even while her pay was lower than his.

Even in the low light, she could see the bags under his eyes, darkening every day. She wanted to brush her fingers over the delicate skin, like that would make them go away. "You do seem exhausted."

"That's nothing to do with work." He blew out a short breath. "It's a long story."

She sent him a small smile. "I have time."

Scorpius observed her for a moment before he got up, pacing in the small space along his bed and desk. "Okay. Imagine this: you've come back home from your first year at Hogwarts. Your biggest concern is that you've been Sorted into Gryffindor after your entire family's legacy was in Slytherin, but the war was forever ago, things have changed, right? So your family can't be that angry, right?"

She nodded, taken aback, but was listening closely. "Right."

"And they're not," he continues, stopping and smiling. "Well, my grandparents were. But my parents didn't say anything. And I got to be happy for all of five minutes because I realized something happened, something that had nothing to do with me, but with my parents. Something to do with…"

The words somehow formed on her lips, but she didn't know how she knew. "SoulMates."

Scorpius nodded grimly, face dropping as he continued pacing. "The spell had just come about a few years before. Regulations aren't in place, so once you do the spell, you find out who your soulmate is. My mum's dying to check who her soulmate is, for reasons nobody can understand, and at some point during my first year, she did. And her soulmate isn't my father."

"Scorpius, I..." The right words caught in her throat. She had no idea what she was asking by prodding him about his lack of sleep.

"Father's furious, takes it out on me." He shakes his head. "Didn't bring it up at first, but the Gryffindor thing came up later. They spent the entire summer fighting, and even though I spent some of it at Orion's house, I couldn't wait to get back to school. But every holiday became like that—every Christmas, the next summer, the next, until they finally got divorced."

"I'm so sorry," Rose said quietly.

"At least they weren't fighting anymore," he reasoned, shrugging. "My mum never even reached out to her soulmate, she felt so guilty. But she's only got her sister, and she's my mum, so I stayed with her and my aunt. My father cut both of us off entirely, and the judge took his side thanks to the SoulMates thing. Haven't spoken to him since I was fifteen."

She nodded, slowly understanding the pieces coming together. Scorpius didn't have a girlfriend that he was staying with, after all. "So it's your mum you've been visiting. At her home."

He sank down on his bed, clasping his hands together. "Yeah."

"Is she okay?"

"She hasn't been feeling well," he confirmed, not looking at her. "Lives far from London, so I stay over there to help her in the mornings. But she's doing a lot better now, and my aunt just came back from a holiday abroad, so I probably won't need to be there as much as I have been."

"Is she another reason you need a raise?" she guessed.

He chuckled. "Right as always, Rose."

"I can see why you hate the SoulMates program," she said, feeling quite sad for him. But Scorpius was smiling gently, in a way that told her he'd largely put it behind him.

"I have my reasons, sure." He leaned back on his hands, observing her. "Honestly, I'm just hoping I can still be a journalist without taking another job on the weekends. Writing is the only thing that's ever made sense to me."

She felt a surge of admiration for him.

"Have you ever written about what happened to you?" The question was out of her mouth before she could reel it back in. "With your family, and SoulMates?"

Scorpius let out a half-laugh, incredulous. "Who would care? Everyone loves SoulMates."

Rose hadn't an answer for that, and tugged her purse onto her lap out of nervousness. As if on cue, the SoulMates pamphlet she'd stuffed in purse a while ago fell out of the open flap, floating onto the floor. She felt absolutely mortified as he picked it up, looking at the part she'd circled after speaking to Laila about it.

"Speed Dating for SoulMates," Scorpius read out loud, tone carefully steady. She felt her face go deep crimson as he stood up to hand the pamphlet back to her.

"I did the test," she admitted, hating that she'd been cornered into telling him after he'd told her that story.

"Oh." His expression was blank, unreadable. "And?"

Rose shifted her purse off her lap again, properly zipping it shut this time. "I don't know who it is. My soulmate's unknown."

"Right," he said, letting out a breath and slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Right, that's good."

"I'm thinking of finding them."

"Finding them—finding them how, exactly?"

She felt a bit indignant as she met his eyes. Scorpius may have had his reasons, but he didn't have the right to judge her—he'd done the SoulMate test, for Merlin's sake. "My friend Laila told me about this speed dating event. That's how she found her soulmate."

Scorpius turned away, looking out the window—not that he could see much, it was pitch black. "Right."

"So I'm thinking of trying it. Maybe I'll meet them."

"Right."

"Would you stop saying that?"

"Right." After a brief pause, Scorpius inhaled sharply, turned back around and stepped in between her legs, right up close. "Well, the fuck you're doing any of that."

"What?" And before she could say anything else, or comprehend anything that was happening, his hands were on her jaw, and he was kissing her.

Her lips reacted on their own, eagerly, bravely. Something was pulling her in, like a force, a magnetism. Once the shock had loosened its grip on her brain, her hands came to loop at the back of his neck. It sent a thrill through her when he deepened their kiss. His mouth was as soft as the rest of him was strong and muscular, pressing himself into her body.

It was nothing like Rose thought it would be—that is to say, it was much more than that. The sparks, the heat underneath her skin? That was there. And another feeling she hadn't anticipated, the feeling like kissing Scorpius was the most natural thing in the world, like she was responding without even wondering what or why it was happening—rather, of course he was kissing her. It was in her bones.

She couldn't stop herself from bringing him closer, eyes shut tight as her fingers swept through the strands of his hair, soft as she'd imagined. He groaned against her lips and she loved it, she loved how he grabbed her around the waist as if they weren't already entirely pressed together, she loved the way he kissed her like was starving for it.

His hands moved down to her thighs and grasped them around himself. She made a surprised squeak as he lifted her up from his desk, and he broke away from their kiss, breathing heavily.

"Is this okay?" he asked, still holding her mid-air, halfway to taking her to his bed.

Somewhere in Rose's head, she knew this was a bad idea. For all the reasons she'd told Laila, the reason she nearly hadn't come to his party, the reason she nearly didn't give him his gift. There was no going back after this, not for her. But the logic was being pushed to the back of her mind, fully out of sight, because she loved how hopeful his eyes were. There was nothing in her that could refuse, not when he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

She nodded, yes, this is okay. Even if it was for only one night, she chose him.

A/N: First kisses are fun :) hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please let me know what you thought of it!

Next: the Potter-Weasley family brunch.