World: AU
Type: Drabble
Rating: K+
I miss writing, so I guess I'm starting this drabble series?
All chapters are independent, updates will be on a whim,
whenever I happen to get inspiration and time to write.
Enjoy!
Green
.
.
"I can see much of your future," she says in what could only be her mystical voice. "A great love awaits you."
He gives the old lady a skeptical look, stormy eyes unimpressed, but he remains still and silent as she traces a wrinkled, fragile finger along the lines upon his palm. He resists the urge to wrench his hand away and storm off, making a mental note to blame his parents for dragging him to the street fair that is surely a waste of time.
"And – can it be? Yes!" The woman continues, gasping in theatrical glory, "You will have many, many children!"
The adolescent rolls his eyes, reclaims his hand, and stands from the too-comfortable chair that all but swallowed him whole as he sunk into it. That was a severe waste of five dollars but his mother insisted and now he only has one left.
He steps outside onto the busy street and is thankful for the fresh air after drowning in perfumes and scented candles, and looks around at the hanging lights, the carnival rides, the families and children laughing and smiling and buying giant puffs of cotton candy and winning various prizes at rigged festival games.
What the hell could he do with one dollar?
Music plays faintly from every direction, special music to accompany each ride, but the songs mesh together rather than a clashing of harmonies.
He sighs, impatiently waiting for his mother to finish with the fortune-teller and scans the crowd for his father who conveniently disappeared. He wants nothing more than to leave because street fairs are stupid and immature and a thing only of his past.
Now he is seventeen and he thinks everything is childish— "You are not filling in for her!"—his attention is drawn to the source of the yell, for some strange reason the voice stands out from the din. His eyes find a redheaded boy, not much different in age, reprimanding a girl standing behind a booth. He is arguing and the girl is laughing and there is another boy, bespectacled, looking on with an amused expression.
"That's what Be Right Back signs are for!" That red-haired boy goes on, waving his arms frantically, "I want you out of that booth, now! I'm serious! It's bad enough my sister is running it!"
But the girl only smiles and gestures towards a female passerby the redhead seems to know ("Luna, hi! Erm, hey," the red haired boy coughs, running a hand through his hair.) and he goes off with her, all stutters and blushes, and the girl behind the booth shakes her head in amusement as she watches them disappear into the crowd.
Before he realizes what he is doing, his feet take him towards this girl behind her booth and she looks up from her conversation with her dark haired friend. She smiles and it is as though he knows her already. But that can't be because he's never seen such caramel golden eyes.
"Hi," she greets him as he approaches. "Would you like one? It's only a dollar." Her voice is perfunctory, bold, but her smile is shy.
The adolescent doesn't know what is only a dollar, only aware of the way her hair curls around her face and the way her smile reaches her eyes, and the way her skin is tan and freckled, but he still doesn't smile, only stares, as if he doesn't hear her.
She reaches out a hand then, across the booth, and catches his fingers, her own curling about them and she draws him nearer and her touch is warm and comforting, just like her smile, just like her eyes, and he welcomes this strange girl and her soft, soft hands and molten chocolate eyes and warm, warm smile.
"Just one dollar," she repeats, and she is still holding his hand and he doesn't pull away.
It is not like that fortune-teller's hand.
It is not like anyone's.
But he swears he has held her hand before.
And so he withdraws a dollar, his final dollar, and stuffs it into the jar sitting on the booth table, and she leans forward and soon their lips touch and he wonders if the fireworks are going off in the sky – but it doesn't matter because his eyes are closed anyways, and she pulls away and he watches her, almost afraid of the way she intrigues him so.
Something is exchanged between them as their eyes study each other, and slowly, he returns her smile, and then she leans forward again so they might see the fireworks once more.
He is confused because he doesn't have another dollar to give, and she shrugs. "First kiss is on the house."
And he decides that he knows that smile and if he doesn't he will because hers is a smile that he will know forever.
Their lips meet again and this time she lingers a bit longer and he can feel her smile against his mouth even as she pulls away with some reluctance. Beside her, the boy in glasses clears his throat, intently studying the wood grain of the kissing booth's stand. Meanwhile, the girl behind it flushes.
Draco grins: Best dollar ever spent.
Oof I am rusty, but I can't deny that it feels good. Until next time!
Hope you're not offended that Green had nothing
to do with Slytherin or jealousy :)