acidpop25: "Different," PG-13
Title: Different
Author: acidpop25
Rating: PG-13
Prompt Set: 50.4
Prompt: #37, "Alone"
Word Count: 570
Summary: "He's so different from them. Maybe too different."
Warnings: none
Notes: So fluffy, it's practically cotton candy.
He's always on his own. Even now, war ended, rift mended, he keeps to himself, separate from the joyful clamour of his family. They are not much alike- he prefers order to chaos, achievement to acceptance, quiet to noise. He even looks different, the only one of the seven who wears glasses, and with hair a darker auburn-red than that of the others besides. He could almost be adopted, save that his face bears an uncanny resemblance to Ron's and to Bill's.
But he's so different from them. Maybe too different.
"Hey, Percy."
He breaks his gaze from his absent contemplation of the pond to look up at me. His eyes are so, so blue.
"Harry, hello."
"Mind if I sit here?" I ask, indicating the small dock on which he is perched, trousers rolled up and bare feet dangling in the water.
"Oh..." he looks a bit mystified, but then, people probably don't ask to sit by him very often. "Yes, of course."
"Thanks." I flash him a grin, and he smiles back, a little hesitantly, and looks down at the water as I settle myself beside him.
Silence falls, but not an awkward one, really, and I don't mind. I like quiet sometimes, but not even Hermione ever seems to quite understand that. Maybe I should have thought to look for it with Percy before, but I never really thought we had much in common. Maybe we still don't. Just quiet and loneliness on a still summer day.
I can feel his gaze on me now, but something, I don't quite know what, makes me hold still instead of looking back, like I might scare him off if I were too.
Maybe I would. It's hard to tell with Percy.
"Harry?" he asks me after a while, a bit tentatively.
"Yes?"
"May... may I please try something?" He sounds so hopeful, a part of me already knows what it is.
"Sure," I tell him, turning to face him. Percy gives a nervous sort of half-smile, leans over, and presses his lips to mine. It's a simple kiss, soft and undemanding and endearingly shy, really. And it's not amazing, it's not brilliant, it doesn't blow my mind, but it's... it's nice, and affectionate, and Percy's got really soft lips and warm hands when they come to lightly cup my face. It's so different from the Percy the world sees, uptight and ambitious and demanding... this, this is just so giving and gentle and good, and that's what makes me want more, what makes me slide my arms around his neck and thread my fingers in his hair to press him just a bit closer, never once breaking the seal of our lips, never daring to, even by accident. Our glasses bump together, and he laughs a little bit against my lips and moves a hand to take his off, setting them aside before reaching back up to stroke my cheek, little feather-light touches that are so sweet they defy reason.
When we part, it is at the same instant, and he smiles at me and blinks, those pretty blue eyes more than likely having a hellish time focusing without his glasses. His hair looks nice in sunlight, like burnished copper.
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me. Not for that."
He grins. "Okay."
Percy might never fit in with his family, but maybe he won't always have to be quite so alone.
Author: acidpop25
Rating: PG-13
Prompt Set: 50.4
Prompt: #37, "Alone"
Word Count: 570
Summary: "He's so different from them. Maybe too different."
Warnings: none
Notes: So fluffy, it's practically cotton candy.
He's always on his own. Even now, war ended, rift mended, he keeps to himself, separate from the joyful clamour of his family. They are not much alike- he prefers order to chaos, achievement to acceptance, quiet to noise. He even looks different, the only one of the seven who wears glasses, and with hair a darker auburn-red than that of the others besides. He could almost be adopted, save that his face bears an uncanny resemblance to Ron's and to Bill's.
But he's so different from them. Maybe too different.
"Hey, Percy."
He breaks his gaze from his absent contemplation of the pond to look up at me. His eyes are so, so blue.
"Harry, hello."
"Mind if I sit here?" I ask, indicating the small dock on which he is perched, trousers rolled up and bare feet dangling in the water.
"Oh..." he looks a bit mystified, but then, people probably don't ask to sit by him very often. "Yes, of course."
"Thanks." I flash him a grin, and he smiles back, a little hesitantly, and looks down at the water as I settle myself beside him.
Silence falls, but not an awkward one, really, and I don't mind. I like quiet sometimes, but not even Hermione ever seems to quite understand that. Maybe I should have thought to look for it with Percy before, but I never really thought we had much in common. Maybe we still don't. Just quiet and loneliness on a still summer day.
I can feel his gaze on me now, but something, I don't quite know what, makes me hold still instead of looking back, like I might scare him off if I were too.
Maybe I would. It's hard to tell with Percy.
"Harry?" he asks me after a while, a bit tentatively.
"Yes?"
"May... may I please try something?" He sounds so hopeful, a part of me already knows what it is.
"Sure," I tell him, turning to face him. Percy gives a nervous sort of half-smile, leans over, and presses his lips to mine. It's a simple kiss, soft and undemanding and endearingly shy, really. And it's not amazing, it's not brilliant, it doesn't blow my mind, but it's... it's nice, and affectionate, and Percy's got really soft lips and warm hands when they come to lightly cup my face. It's so different from the Percy the world sees, uptight and ambitious and demanding... this, this is just so giving and gentle and good, and that's what makes me want more, what makes me slide my arms around his neck and thread my fingers in his hair to press him just a bit closer, never once breaking the seal of our lips, never daring to, even by accident. Our glasses bump together, and he laughs a little bit against my lips and moves a hand to take his off, setting them aside before reaching back up to stroke my cheek, little feather-light touches that are so sweet they defy reason.
When we part, it is at the same instant, and he smiles at me and blinks, those pretty blue eyes more than likely having a hellish time focusing without his glasses. His hair looks nice in sunlight, like burnished copper.
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me. Not for that."
He grins. "Okay."
Percy might never fit in with his family, but maybe he won't always have to be quite so alone.