𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕊𝕙𝕖𝕖𝕡

29- Don't Think About It

"Run away, go find a lover
Run away, let your heart be your guide"

The end of summer near, Andy dreaded having to give up the cloud she had been living in that summer. It hadn't been perfect—how could it have been?—but Andromeda had to recognize it as her best summer to date despite all the horrid events that had taken place.

Henri and Marlowe were really the only reason she could say that. She might sound a bit like a broken record, however, Andy didn't really care, having their home to go to, to hide out in when things went south was a lifesaver.

Something she regretted was being at Henri's when Narcissa visited Sirius and Regulus. She hated to imagine the sad look on Sirius's face when he realized she wasn't going to show up. Doing her best not to hate herself, she wrote Sirius a letter, and when she got his reply, which told her how greatly he missed her, she cried.

However, it was much easier not to think about all that stuff when she wasn't around her family at all. No house, no letters, no pictures, all meant no pain.

Older Andromeda would very much like to slap younger Andromeda for even thinking that because oh, how she was wrong.

She couldn't erase the memories, no matter how hard she tried.

Here she found herself, laughing freely with a boy who really didn't know who she was. He carried his guitar on a strap over his one shoulder and their picnic blanket in the other. She had the picnic basket, which had been filled to the brim by her and Marlowe earlier that day.

Of course, August had allegedly known the perfect place for a picnic—Andy had had her doubts until they arrived to the place. He laid down the blanket at the very top of a hill that flattened out at the top, which also overlooked a small creek. Basking in the moment, August tugged on Andy's hand, successfully pulling her out of her reverie.

"What shall we start with?" August asked, unpacking the basket Andy set on the blanket.

She kicked off a pair of beat-up, blue sandals—the only pair she owned—as she sat down to join August. Her flowy sundress—something Marlowe had made her in her free time, Henri had gotten one too, of course—a light blue number, settled around her as she crossed her legs.

"Well, Gus, I really don't mind either way," Andy replied with a soft smile, absolutely adoring the way he blushed when she called him the nickname.

"How about some strawberries then?" He asked and she nodded in reply.

Taking a strawberry from him, which Henri had cut while Marlowe and Andy were preparing the basket, she watched as the hot, August sun blessed his features with lighting that illuminated every part of him.

His light brown, mousy hair held soft curls, that often fell into his face on stage. August had long eyelashes and rosy cheeks—something Meda was jealous of because it seemed her face never held any color.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" August asked, tilting his head slightly.

"You," Andy laughed, throwing the strawberry she had been holding at him.

"Hey!"

Andromeda escaped the strawberry he threw back by rolling down the hill, not even thinking about the grass stains that were sure to turn up on her dress later. August followed her lead, rolling down the hill until he nearly landed on top of her.