the dragon's daughter

Chapter 66: In my mind

Scorpius POV

That night...

I sat in my dorm room, laying on my bed.  I had managed to get through the rest of the day, somehow.  I went to the quidditch pitch, flew around for a few hours, missed lunch and went to the kitchen for something to eat.  Worked out for a few mor house, then went to the bathroom and took a long shower, went to dinner, with my head down most of the time.  And Al dragged me back here, where I took another shower, and changed into my sweatpants.  I opted to not wear a shirt, do my hair or properly wash my face.  I did brush my teeth and somewhat manage to clean my face, as well as moisturize.

Is this what it's going to be like for the next few days? Weeks? Months? Years?

I don't think I can last that long.

But as long as she's happy.  In whatever sick and twisted way that is.

Seriously, I don't know where this 'new found love' for Pucey came from.  I don't think it's love either, but that's beside the point.

How could she just look at me like that, like we had nothing?

Maybe we didn't and it was just me?

Did I read everything wrong?

But I can't just get over it.

She's so smart, and funny, and creative.  She's energetic, and bubbly, and and... maybe I fancy her.  

She's gorgeous too.  

Her hair, more red then any usual red heads.  With an undertone of brown in there from her mother.  The perfect curls that naturally form.  Her eyes, that beautiful, perfect, shade of brown and blue behind long lashes.  The perfect shade, perfect combination, perfect everything.  Her lips, plump, the perfect shade of a pink and red mix.  Her smile, not perfect but fits her so well.  The way is makes me feel like everything is alright.  Her skin, a perfect light shade, her freckles dotting almost every inch of skin.  Like stars in the night sky.  I'm pretty sure there are constellations we can make out of them.  She's tall, but I'm taller, bringing her head right under my chin.  She's lean, but does have some muscle from quidditch.  Her hands are always so soft.  And fit perfect in mine. 

Ugh, I sound like a lovesick puppy.

I feel like a lovesick puppy.

Ugh, why are feelings so hard.

Why can't Rosie be Violet? Or Rosanna, Rosalie, whatever her name is.

It's the illusion of Rose, but it's not her.

Someone that seems like her, but I care less about.  

There's only one Rose.  

The one I dreamed of asking out the day we could to go Hogsmeade.  The one I want to take to dances.  The one I can show off and say 'yeah she chose this idiot'.  The one I can take on vacations.  The one I laugh with about random things that turn to inside jokes.  The one that competes with me on a personal level.  The one who tries and usually bests me during quidditch.  The one who supported me when Mum was diagnosed.  The one who was there when Aquila was in her coma.  The one who turned to me for comfort during those times.  The one I can't help but smile at when she does those small things.  The one I can't help but want to hold and protect at every cost.  The one I want to grab her at any random moment and kiss.  The one I want to hold hands with as we walk along side the black lake. The one I can't help but fancy.

I fancy everything she does, everything she is. 

When she crinkles her nose while concentrating.  When her eyes widen when  she's excited or happy.  When her smile cracks into a laugh.  When she raises her eyebrow while she shows off her intelligence.  When her voice remains deadly calm before she tells someone off.  When she skips around the halls, not caring what's going on around her for the time being.  When she laughs at something stupid.  When she runs over the rocks by the black lake, jumping from one to another.  When she trips in her heels despite looking like royalty.  When she leans on me for hopper after a long night of dancing.  When she enters the room and catches everyone's attention.  When she performs the most complex spells that some have never even heard of.  When she smirks when she knows she's right.