#anyways. I’ve gotten back into doodling across every scrap of paper I can get my hands on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raendown · 5 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 1768 Soulmate au: The one where when you are distracted you tune in to your soulmate's thoughts and absently write them down

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KO-FI

Chapter 153: Madara/Tobirama

Madara was young and small and bored, trapped in his first calligraphy class when he could have been outside learning more kata, ink dripping carelessly from his brush to ruin the page beneath him. He was dozing off in the summer heat as he idly touched the tip of his brush to the page to draw pointless circles when suddenly they weren’t circles anymore but fully formed kanji spilling across the parchment in elegant swoops.

He only noticed when the tiny little woman who was trying to teach him his calligraphy gasped and snatched the paper away from him with a mockingly proud coo.

“Oh ho ho, do we have a little genius on our hands?” Susumu-sensei asked. Madara blinked.

“Huh? No? Are those words? I don’t know what they say.”

She gasped all over again and carefully returned the page. “Ah, my lucky little pastry! That means you’ve made a connection with your soulmate! Should I tell you what it says?”

“What? No! No, I…I want to read it myself.”

“I see, I see. Well, let’s get learning then. Perhaps if you are very lucky, some day you might reach a state when you are both in tune with each other enough to have a direct conversation!”

He paid much more attention after that. It took months to learn his letters well enough for him to puzzle his way through the absent thought he had captured on paper but when he did it was worth it. Madara laid in bed with the precious scroll clutched to his chest and muffled his laughter behind the other palm.

Anija couldn’t look any stupider if I braided his hair and sewed his hands to his ears.

Whoever his soulmate was, they already had a small corner of his heart.

Over the years it happened every so often, on the rare occasion his attention drifted when he happened to be holding a brush or a pencil. Each time it occurred Madara made sure to keep the precious scrap of parchment, hoarding them away in a box under his floor, and he only ever read them while he was alone. The private thoughts of his soulmate were for his eyes only.

Sometimes they were idle thoughts about the stupidity of the people around them and Madara would laugh as he looked forward to hearing that sass first hand. Other times they might be considering thoughts on battle tactics or weapon choices. Madara nodded along with the sense in those ones and was glad to know that his soulmate was a fellow shinobi. He was sure he would never have anything in common with a fragile civilian, let alone be able to share his life with one. But his favorite thoughts were the ones that had nothing to do with anything important, whimsical ideas about impossible dreams that were sometimes happy and sometimes sad. Those, Madara felt, told him more than anything about what sort of person his soulmate was.

He wished he could say that the most important events of his life were all accompanied by little notes of his soulmate’s thoughts but unfortunately that just wasn’t to be. His personality was such that he simply couldn’t let his thoughts wander when something important was happening around him, not when he might miss some crucial detail. When he agreed to a ceasefire with the Senju, while he sat through all the boring yet necessary peace talks, as they built the village he had always dreamed about, through all of that he had no time to let his mind drift and connect him with his other half. Not until all was said and done and both of their clans had settled in with several others having agreed to join them.

The day he finally had a chance to sit and breathe he was hunched behind a massive pile of paperwork and staring down at the report in front of him with no will to read through it. His fingers lifted a pencil to twirl it around and around, tapping the graphite tip on the pages in front of him while his mind wandered away to the café across the street. Should he go out for lunch today?

Any ideas about lunch were abandoned when he felt his fingers pause, not having noticed they were moving in the first place. With an oddly detached feeling he looked down to see that he had written something across the top of the report.

If my brother does not smarten up I am going to kill him.

Quiet chuckles escaped him as he thought idly that he could apply that same sentiment to his own brother.

We could team up and throttle them together wrote itself across his page and Madara paused.

That sounded a great deal like it was in response to him. How curious.

Curious indeed. It’s nice to finally speak with him.

Madara very nearly dropped his pencil, hanging on to it only because the muscles in his fingers clenched in shock. He had always wanted to meet his soulmate and now here they were somehow talking to each other!

I’ve always wanted to meet him too. If only he were in Konoha.

But he was in Konoha. Madara swallowed thickly and thought about how he had built the damn place, of course he was here. His pencil skittered across the page yet again and when he looked down he felt the strangest rush of joy and fear all at once.

Holy shit my soulmate is Madara.

Was that a good reaction? A bad one? The written words were devoid of any emotional context, only stared back at him with no further answer even though he waited for several minutes. He was left with nothing to do but sit at his desk and scream internally over how many unanswered questioned he suddenly had. The idea that he might have walked right passed his soulmate on the street was frustrating. They could have been together ages ago!

The rest of his day passed slowly, filled with large periods of time in which he simply could not focus on anything. He’d spoken directly with his soulmate for the first time since Susumu-sensei explained that it was possible all those years ago. They knew who he was. So why had they not come to him so that they could speak in person? It would have been the first action he took if he were the one to suss out their identity, too excited to finally have an answer to stay away for long. That they failed to appear by the time he wandered home from the office led him to suspect that they were not exactly thrilled to be his match.

Madara sat down to a simple dinner that night, overcooked in his distraction although he was still too out of it to notice anyway, and picked at it slowly while he tried to come to terms with the fact that he had done something to estrange his own soulmate before he’d even met them. He wished he could say it was a surprise but he’d always known he had a caustic personality. He’d just always assumed his soulmate would love him the way he was. To be proved wrong was…a disappoint, to say the least.

Soft knocking at the front door brought him up out of his stupor enough to frown and wonder what the hell Tobirama, of all people, could need from him at this hour. Even his fellow workaholic should be home at least pretending to take a rest from all they did during the day but that could be only his chakra signature hovering on the porch and Madara knew very well he wouldn’t be going away until he had whatever he’d come for.

With a reluctant grumble he pulled himself away from the burnt rice in his bowl and marched over to wrench his front door open, one eyebrow already lifted in question. It was joined by the other in surprise when he saw the hesitant, almost shy way that Tobirama stood before him, weight shuffling back and forth like a nervous child. He didn’t speak before shoving something under Madara’s nose and seeming to fold back in to himself.

At first Madara didn’t understand what the big deal was. It was only a speech Tobirama had been working on to present to the first academy teachers when they were chosen. Flipping through it, however, revealed that on the fourth page down near the bottom it seemed the man had gotten distracted and begun doodling in the margins. Interesting. He wouldn’t have thought Tobirama was the type. When the doodling turned in to words and he recognized the lines of thought laid out on the page he froze. Those were his thoughts. Those were the things he had been thinking about when he and his soulmate had tuned in to each other at the same time.

Madara’s head snapped up to find Tobirama watched him shyly through the fringe of his hair. Everything about the man’s body language was cautious but open, watchful, clearly prepared for a negative reaction but just as clearly hoping for a positive one.

At least he understood the words from earlier now.

“Holy shit,” was all he could think to say. Tobirama nodded sagely.

“Yes, that was my first thought too. I apologize for leaving you in the dark for so long. As ashamed as I am to admit it, I needed time to…”

“Get used to the idea?”

“Build up the courage to say something,” Tobirama corrected him, eyes dropping to the side with shame.

Madara nodded and took a slow, deep breath in. Then he let it back out just as slowly while he weighed his options. It was a quick decision. He’d just spent several hours thinking his soulmate didn’t want him and the thought of not even trying now gave him the same empty feeling in his chest that he’d been fighting against up until three minutes ago.

“Would you like to come in?” he offered. “I can…recook dinner.”

“Oh. Yes. That sounds – yes.”

Madara smirked faintly. He’d never heard Tobirama like that stutter in his life. The man had shown more human emotion in his brief time here on the front step than he had in all the years they’d known each other so far. As he closed the door behind them Madara realized he was smiling, feeling oddly hopeful for his future all of a sudden.

It was a strange feeling but he was certain he could grow to enjoy it.

#rae writes #soulmate collection #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction

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milominderbindered · 7 years

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thirty days of skam fic: day seventeen aka, the morning of isak’s birthday

beginning. accusation. restless. leaves. rainbow. flame. formal. under. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. cans. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. tent. mad. thousand. paper. winter. luxury. letters. promise. simple. future.

[ READ ON AO3 ]

“Iiiiisak.”

“Mmm.”

“Isak.”

The day has not yet begun, but the annoying sounds filtering through his ears just won't stop. Whole body still asleep, Isak mumbles into the pillow, “Fiv’more minutes.”

“Baaaaby, no, you have to wake up.”

With a groan, Isak blinks his eyes open, groggy and disorientated. What day is it? Why is he awake and why does he so desperately want not to be awake? The second one of those is answered a moment later, when he shifts under the duvet and feels the twinging of all his muscles. Oh, yeah, Even had insisted on fucking him longer and better than Isak’s ever been fucked as a birthday celebration as soon as it turned midnight. Which also means that this day he's forgotten about must be --

“Happy birthday!”

Right. That. Yawning, Isak rolls onto his back, and looks up at Even, taking a full ten seconds to process the sight he is met with. Instead of Even being stood there in boxers and a t-shirt he’s shamelessly thieved from Isak like usual, Even is fully dressed, beaming, with an armful of badly-wrapped presents and a shiny purple party blower between his lips.

As soon as he sees Isak’s eyes are open, Even blows, and the room is filled with a huge honk that startles Isak right out of the last dregs of sleep.

“Geez,” Isak says, blinking a bit as he pushes up onto his elbows. He wants to pretend to be annoyed at the rude wakeup call, really, but only lasts about two seconds before a grin is tugging at the corners of his mouth anyway, and he’s hopeless to fight it back. “You couldn’t have let me have a lie-in at least?”

Even shakes his head vigorously, throwing the party blower to the floor now that he’s probably woken up the whole building, and dumping the pile of presents onto the end of the bed. Isak stares down at them for a moment, gauging the various sized boxes and blobs, the way they’re mostly wrapped in different wrapping paper, too much tape running wonkily across the sides, with a few bits of newspaper or Even’s doodles taped on top as well where there must have been holes in the wrapping. Isak knows Even hasn’t got him anything huge, but the thought of being woken up and already feeling spoilt is very appealing. Birthdays had never been a particularly big deal in Isak’s house, but Even clearly has a different view, and it's actually rather adorable; he's more excited about Isak turning eighteen than Isak is.

“My favourite eighteen-year-old. Now you can buy your own beer and stop scrounging off me,” Even says, as he crawls on top of Isak and starts peppering his lips with kisses.

“Mmm, nope, sorry.” Isak scrunches up his nose, pretending to try and squirm away from Even. “You always have to buy me beer. It was in that extensive boyfriend contract I made you sign, no way out of it now.”

“Oh, it was?” Even teases, digging his fingers into Isak’s ribs until Isak is laughing. “I don't remember that. I don't remember that!”

For the next few minutes, they devolve into a laughing tangle of limbs, which eventually turns into a tangle of kisses, and it's quite a few flustered minutes before Even finally extracts himself and rolls over, out of Isak’s reach.

“Hey, come back,” Isak protests, reaching up to the and and grab Even without actually moving from his comfy spot in the blankets. “Where are you going? It's my birthday, aren't you supposed to give me as many kisses as I want?”

“Oh yeah? Is that in the contract too?”

Isak hums, and lets his eyes fall closed again for a moment, expecting Even to immediately return with more kisses -- frankly, it’s never hard to convince Even to stay in bed. But rather than the familiar weight of Even’s body landing on top of him a moment later, Isak just lets out an oof as an entire armful of presents are dumped on top of him.

“Hey!” He’s laughing as his arms and legs curl up automatically, trying to protect himself from the rain of boxes Even’s sending down on him, but Even doesn’t look at all remorseful when he meets Isak’s eyes again.

“Oh? Don’t you want to open your presents? You can get kisses any time!”

Okay, so Isak is curious about what Even’s got him. He’d thought the supposedly-secret party Even was throwing for him later was gonna be his gift, so it’s intriguing, and Even is also looking far too pleased with himself for the presents to just be new socks or something. But Isak is also stubborn, so he insists on one more kiss before sitting up and starting to sift through the pile of gifts strewn all over the blankets.

Even sits opposite him on the bed, legs crossed, and laughs as Isak opens the presents. The first box is condoms; the second box is also condoms. The third box is lube, and Isak snorts, wondering if this is gonna be the theme.

“So who am I supposed to be having all this sex with?” he inquires, as he starts in on another present. The pattern ends there, though; the next thing is a tiny little rainbow badge to match the pan-flag one that Even now wears on his denim jacket. Then a few bars of chocolate, and then a little bottle of cardamom, and then some washing up gloves, which isn’t romantic but Isak has been complaining they need new ones for ages. One tiny gift has gotten lost between the folds of the blankets, and Isak digs it out, unwrapping the scrap of paper it’s covered in with one tug -- it’s a nose plug, like the kind little kids wear at the swimming pool to stop water going up their nose. Remembering their very first kiss, Isak lets out a breathless little laugh, and then laughs some more when he opens the biggest parcel. It’s just one of Even’s hoodies, taken out of the dirty laundry basket.

“You always steal that one, so I thought I would officially give it to you,” Even teases, grinning the wide grin that makes his eyes crinkle up. It’s Isak’s favourite look on Even. It makes him look like he’s lighting up the whole universe.

“That’s pointless, I only steal it because it smells like you.” Isak rolls his eyes, but he pulls on the hoodie anyway, snuggling into it a bit. That’s the last of the presents, and he makes sure they’re all carefully arranged in a little pile before climbing out from under the blankets and right into Even’s lap, twining his arms around Even’s neck and kissing him, over and over again. Against Even’s smile, he murmurs, “Thank you. I love it all.”

Even nods against him, their noses brushing, and they just stay like that for a little while. Isak would honestly be happy to just drag Even back to bed and stay there all day, but they have lives to lead and things to do, so eventually he sighs and forces himself to crawl off Even’s lap, raising an expectant eyebrow.

“So? Am I getting birthday breakfast or what?”

“Oh, you want breakfast now? You’re so high maintenance!”

“Um, yeah I want breakfast! I’m beginning to think you never read this boyfriend contract at all, fuck, don’t you know special breakfast is required at every single birthday?”

Alright, Isak’s mostly joking, but he’s also got no doubt in his mind that there is a special birthday breakfast, mostly because he can see it laid out on their kitchen counter -- sometimes having a direct view from the bed to the kitchen is a blessing.

Sitting back like he’s pretending to think about it, Even says, “Well, I guess I could whip up some waffles or something, since I’m lovely like that.”

“You are lovely,” Isak agrees, grinning.

“Mmm.” Even smiles right back as he climbs off the bed and takes the few long-legged steps it takes him to reach the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he adds, “Well, before you get your waffles, you might like to know there’s one more present!”

“There is?” Isak asks, playing dumb. He knows Even must mean the party. Even’s been trying to act like it’s gonna be a surprise, but he hasn’t been subtle at all, and Isak already knows he’s going to a park to meet all his friends later. He’s expecting Even to just say something along those lines -- except, as Even picks up a plate of waffles with two forks and walks back towards him, he completely throws Isak off instead.

“Yep. I’ve made you a film.”

Waffles in hand, Even stands at the end of the bed, looking very proud of himself. For a moment, Isak just looks. He doesn’t know how he got this lucky, or what crazy conspiring fates of the universe came together to bring Even into his life, but he’s thankful for it every single day.

“A film?” he checks. Even nods.

“A film. But you have to find it yourself. It’ll be like a birthday scavenger hunt, but on Youtube.”

Wait. What?

“What do you mean!” But Even’s just grinning in his stupid cryptic way, backing up to put the waffles on their rickety little table and taking a seat. Isak kicks off the last blankets and stumbles out of bed, following after him. “Even! That’s so not fair, oh my god. There’s literally more than a billion videos on Youtube!”

“Well, you’ll just have to guess what it’s called then,” Even says, doing that ridiculous thing where he tries to wink but he’s smiling too wide and just ends up blinking. Isak’s whole heart thuds with how adorable it is. “I promise it’ll be easy.”

“I hate you,” Isak says, but he knows there is far too much adoration in his voice for that argument to hold water for an entire second. Huffing, he sits down at the table, accepting the fork Even passes him and already trying to figure out what the title of this film could be. Or what it will even be about. There are so many possibilities, but he has to force himself to put them to the back of his mind, and just enjoy breakfast for a minute. “If I don’t guess by the end of the day, will you tell me?”

“You’ll figure it out before then,” Even assures him. With a mouthful of waffle, Isak stares at him, and for a few minutes they just look at each other across the table, silent while they eat.

“I love you,” Isak eventually says, when the plate is almost empty and he still hasn’t recovered from how amazing his boyfriend is. Even smiles at him, that crinkle-eyed smile, and Isak nearly swoons.

“I love you,” Even agrees, reaching across the table to poke Isak’s nose like the brat that he really is. “Man of my life. Happy birthday.”

#skamfwn #even bech naesheim #isak valtersen #evak #evak fic #okay this one didn't end up being very related to the prompt word but i couldn't control my birthday morning feels #isak x even #even x isak #skam #skam fic #maia writes fic #30 days of skam

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proclivitae · 6 years

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Light a Lantern in My Heart (3/?)

Title: Light a Lantern in My Heart

Part: 3/?

Summary: Scorpius really wanted to date Albus Potter. Halley, thankfully, is the same.

Words: 2,014

If you’d like to read it on another site: HPFT | AO3

On one quiet morning, as Scorpius, Al, and she are eating breakfast, it occurs to Halley that for all the time all three of them have been dating, they’ve never been on a proper date.

Yeah, sure, she and Scorpius have went on several dates, but she couldn’t say the same for all three of them together.

So, on that very same morning, she got in her head that, yes, they are all indeed going to go on a date, preferably soon.

There is one wrinkle in Halley’s plan however: is there a Hogsmeade day coming up? Of course, today is a Saturday, but there is never any guarantee.

She realizes that it’s a clichéd first date, but there is a reason why it is a cliché: it works, and serves its purpose just fine.

Halley frowns. But does she really want their first date to be at Hogsmeade? It could be rather boring; all the sites at Hogsmeade have long since lost the wonder they had when all three of them were third years, and had gained their first bit of independence.

She shakes her head, it’d have to do for now, unless Scorpius or Al had better ideas.

“Knut for your thoughts?”

Halley breaks out of her thoughts, and turns her attention to Al, who had asked the question.

“Oh, just that we’ve never been on a date before. Not a real proper one anyway,” Halley answers him, popping a grape in her mouth.

“Oh.” Al frowns, and then nudges Scorpius, who’s off in his own mind. He startles. “We’ve never been on a date.”

Scorpius opens his mouth to refute it, but closes it in doubt. “Oh. We should probably fix that.”

Halley smiles, glad both of them agree. She leans forward subconsciously, and says, “What do you suppose we do, then?”

“I mean, there’s always Hogsmeade…” Scorpius says quietly, shrugging indifferently.

Al’s face twists unpleasantly. “Maybe not. Today’s not a Hogsmeade day.”

Scorpius raises his eyebrows, as does Halley. Scorpius asks, “You want to go today?”

Al smiles guiltily. “Sure, why not?”

Halley hums in thought, propping her chin into her palms, so that her hands are cupping her face. “Have anything in mind?”

“I don’t know,” Al admits, hanging his head a little bit. “But I do know a place, and its right here.”

Intrigued, Scorpius tilts his head in question.

Seeing this, Al continues, “The Room of Requirement, on the seventh floor, I think.”

Halley lights up. “I’ve heard of that! I’ve never been though.” She deflates.

Al grins. “I know courtesy of my father.”

“I see… When do you suppose we go then?” Scorpius asks, shifting in his seat.

Halley jumps up. “Right now!”

Scorpius startles, and glances around warily for people who had noticed. Except for a select few, most kept to themselves, thankfully.

Al gets up with the same enthusiasm. He has too much of a penchant of playing along with her, though this is a fact that makes Halley a little bit proud, mostly of how much they’ve become familiar with each other.

Al grabs Scorpius’ hand, and gently tugs him along. Halley joins the two on the other side of the Slytherin table, and takes in her hand Al’s free hand.

They arrive at the seventh floor, seemingly where the Room of Requirement would be. Al stops abruptly, and tells Halley to walk in front of the empty expanse of the wall three times all while thinking of what she wants the room to be.

Scorpius looks at Al strangely, and Al gives him the same look back. “What?”

“Those are some oddly specific directions…”

Halley had to agree.

Al rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I know. Just do it.”

Halley does so, thinking of how she wants to remember their first date.

A few seconds later, a seemingly innocuous door appears, and Halley steps back in surprise.

Tentatively, Halley twists the door knob, and inside is a large room, filled with… art supplies?

Al ducks inside and looks around.

“How do you suppose this’ll work out as our first date?” Al asks, staring straight at Halley.

She bristles. A little defensively, she replies, “I don’t know. I guess I was just thinking of how I wanted a keepsake or something handmade from you two, and this is what came up.”

Scorpius looks around. “That’s a good idea.” He faces Halley, giving her a teasing smile. “You’re such a sap, though.”

Halley swats at Scorpius’ arm playfully, and he feigns hurt.

She sticks her tongue out at him.

“If you two are done flirting with each other...” Al raises an amused eyebrow at them, leaning at the edge of the entrance on his shoulder.

Halley turns to him, a smile on her lips. “Aww, does somebody want attention?”

“W-what? No. Ugh! Just get in.”

Al walks further into the expansive room, and goes to a corner with illustration board and stacks of magazines, while Scorpius steps towards the clay.

Halley chooses to walk to the cardstock, and grabs whatever she thinks she might need.

She dumps the stuff in her arms unceremoniously on to the table (how didn’t she notice the table before?) where Al and Scorpius had taken place, both of which had begun whatever they came up with.

Halley didn’t really know what Al is doing, but he seems to be having fun with it. He kept ripping out pages of the magazines, and cutting out specific parts. He put them all aside, and continues perusing through the stack of zines he had gotten.

Scorpius, on the other hand, seems interested in squishing the clay around, and making obscure shapes.

“Have any new stories to tell, Al?” Halley asks curiously.

Al snorts. “Do I? Of course I do. Well, I’ve told you about my sister right?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius says, joining in. “I like her, from what you’ve told us.��

Al laughs. “Yeah, so anyways, there’s this boy that always sits where she does...”

Halley listens intently, all while working on her keepsake.

Not long later, Halley is surprised to find out that a good chunk of time had gone by, because she’s done with her card, which is well made if she says so herself.

She glances to Al and Scorpius, both whom were now messing around with their wands. Al is cleaning up his workspace, which had gotten rather messy over the duration they’d been here. Scorpius is waving his wand over his clay… items to fire and glaze it with color and design.

Halley isn’t quite sure what to call what Scorpius made, though she’s sure that he’ll explain.

Al seats himself, finally, after finishing. “I feel like I’m in Pre-K, again, doing arts and crafts.”

“Pre-K?” Scorpius asks, looking curiously at Al.

“Yeah, um, it’s like a school where little kids go to learn their basic maths, alphabet, and etcetera. In arts and crafts we usually presented what we made.”

“That sounds so dumb. But whatever,” Halley says, sliding the card across the table over to Al, Scorpius side eying it.

He takes it into his hands with a gentler care than what she expects. He stares, a little wide eyed at it, and then breaks out into a large grin. His following words are a jumble of phrases that Halley puts together as ‘how the fuck did you do it?’

She giggles at Al’s excited chattering, and Scorpius muffles a laugh into his sleeve.

Noticing, Al flushes, and ends with, “But, no seriously, how did you? It’s so precise! Did you cut the letters out on your own? Oh, it must have been so hard though.”

Halley nods, smiling. The letters Al was referring to was the message she wrote, which reads out ‘Here’s to our first date.’ She isn’t really that good with coming up with meaningful messages or lines, but she knows the effort she put into it alone would have impressed Al. On the inside, were just tiny doodles of the three of them which she charmed into moving across the card.

It isn’t really much of anything, yet, it swells Halley’s heart (okay, and maybe her ego too) to see Al’s genuine candor and excitement.

Al possesses a resting bitch face that could probably put the fear of God in everyone, but it awes Halley how easily his personality came out.

He turns his attention to Scorpius. “And you?”

Rather shyly, he places the plate and cup before him, and gestures to it. “I guess I decided to be a Potter today.”

Al takes on a look of confusion.

The joke dawns on Halley, and gives a choked laugh. She says, still giggling, “Yeah, I guess he was.”

Al is the last one to get the pun, but when he does, he sits down and buries his face into his arms, shoulders shaking.

When he looks up, Halley sees tears had formed in the corners of his eyes.

“Wow,” Al says, traces of amusement still in his voice, “okay—” He cuts himself off with a giggle. Who knows that Albus Potter could be so dorky and giggly? Al picks up the cup, and holds it up next to his face. “Look, it even matches my eyes!”

Scorpius’ shy smile grows. “I know. That’s why I chose it.”

Al bites his lip, and Halley just knows a blush had took over Scorpius’ face.

"It's beautiful," Al says, sincere and wondrous all at the same time. "I don't think you knew I love flowers, but I really love flowers so this is like, amazing. I'm sorry—I don't know how else say it. Can I use them?"

Scorpius nods. "They're yours to keep."

Al merely beams at him. “And, um, here’s what I made you two…” He turns over the board that had been upside down on the table, and Scorpius snatches it up before Halley could.

She comes up from behind Scorpius, and places her head on his shoulder, and takes in the collage before her.

There were two people on the top half, seeming to be facing towards a rising sun, and on the bottom half, the two people on the top half were reflected. Every few seconds or so, the bottom half flickered into having three people.

Halley isn’t really sure how Al made scraps of magazine paper into something as cohesive as this, but he did. The magic is really cool, and she assumes that the people on the collage were meant to be them three.

Scorpius is the first one to speak, a little awed. “Al.”

“Hmm?” Al replies shortly. He’s looks sort of fidgety.

“This is amazing,” Scorpius says matter-of-factly. “I don’t really know if I can keep this…”

Decisively, Halley takes the illustration board, and tells Scorpius, “I sure can. Buddy, this is fucking gold.”

His hands fall limp, though he still smiles.

Observing Al, he seems unable to keep his grin from growing wider. He is even blushing.

Then, Halley says honestly, “I know I’m bad at, like, saying how I feel, but thank you so much, really. The idea is really creative, and I think it was a nice touch, what you did with the magic.”

Al nods. He thinks something over, and then goes over to the other side of the table, and hugs the both of them simultaneously.

Surprised as she is, she hugs back, with one arm, the other wrapping around Scorpius.

Al mumbles something that sounds something like ‘You know I like you both, right?’

Halley snorts, and says yes, while Scorpius agrees.

Al is the first to break away, and frowns. Regretfully, he tells them, “I think we have to go now. We’ve spent the whole day in here.”

Both Halley and Scorpius agree grudgingly, and left the Room of Requirement. Quietly, Al parts from them, stating that he had to go and meet with his siblings.

Halley separated from Scorpius when they went to their respective dorms.

The first thing she does is put the collage next to her bed, and charm it carefully so that it couldn’t be damaged.

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