Rose Red and Lily White for liliths_requiem [PG-13] -- SM/LLP, SM/RW
Title: Rose Red and Lily White
Author: tania_sings ★
Recipient: liliths_requiem
Rating: PG-13
Ship: Scorpius/Lily Luna, Scorpius/Rose
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Never have been mine, and never will be!
Summary: It'd a strange thing to watch your boyfriend and your best friend falling in love. It's stranger still when you realise it before they do.
Author's Notes: This one was a pinch-hit, but I did my best with it. Hope it turned out okay! Written for the prompt: Flying motorcycles and fish and chips. Thanks to bendleshnitz1 for all the help!
The three of them land on a deserted strip of Cornwall beach, casting charms on the motorbikes that will make them look utterly unenchanted if any muggles should happen across them. Hot and sweaty from a day's flying, they plunge into the chilly blue water, crying out in pleasure as it washes over their sunburned skins. Rose, the strongest swimmer of the three, plunges towards the bottom of the ocean, resurfacing with a handful of seaweed and muck to rub into Scorpius' shaggy white-blonde hair. The young man swears, laughing, and wrestles with her, trying to push her head back under the surface. Lily watches them from the shallows, amazed at how very right they look together. They are totally comfortable with touching each other -- after three weeks on this round-the-country, Lily's-finally-of-age trip they've all pretty much shed their modesty -- but there's more to it than that. Rose's dark curls, looking almost black while wet, are such a pretty contrast to Scorpius' sleek pale locks, and her freckled skin against his white complexion reminds Lily of the speckled shadows that the sun makes on sand when it's filtered through leaves. Scorpius' hand is a perfect fit for the small of Rose's back, and, being nearly the same height, their lips are always ideally positioned for a kiss should they finally choose to close the gap between them.
How much longer they can keep from doing that is anyone's guess.
From this distance, Lily reflects, you'd never guess that Scorpius is not Rose's boyfriend, but hers.
After the swim, they walk along the beach. Scorpius dutifully holds Lily's hand, and she is reminded oddly of a parakeet that she had a child. She kept trying to train the bird to sit on her finger, since she knew that's what they were supposed to do. Her little pet, however, had no idea that it was meant to perch merrily on her hand, and it was positively terrified. It got to the point where the parakeet would tremble like a little blue leaf whenever Lily unlocked the cage door. She felt horrible, but she never gave up because she'd got it into her head that once the bird just learned the trick, everything would be fine. Eventually, the parakeet did learn to sit on Lily's finger without fear, but by then her gentle feelings for her pet were all mixed up with guilt and she very rarely took him out of his cage at all.
She should have learned from that; there's no pleasure in training someone to show affection for you. But there had been a time when Scorpius wanted to hold her hand, a time when he couldn't keep away from her. Now his limp hand clutched tightly in hers just feels like a cheap imitation of love.
Rose jogs ahead, putting some distance between herself and the couple. She's doing that more and more these days. Back at school, she'd had no trouble spending time with Lily and Scorpius as a pair, but now, as if instinctively, she withdraws at any sign of physical affection between her friends. At first, Lily couldn't decide whether to be hurt or grateful for this, but she's figured out that it doesn't matter. Rose has no idea that she's doing this, and, regardless of how Lily feels about it, it's still just one of a million indicators of the approach of something she's starting to see as inevitable.
Rose turns a cartwheel in the sand, and Scorpius, clearly unable to help himself or unaware of his own reactions, whistles quietly in appreciation. It's unlikely that Rose could have heard him over the crash of the surf, but she still looks back and smiles, as if responding to the feeling of admiration in the air.
Lily knows that, of the two of them, she actually has the more pleasing features. Rose's eyes are a pleasant brown, but Lily's are brilliant green. Lily's hair is a silky red curtain, a gift that she got from her Weasley relatives, while Rose, who has the Weasley name, inherited a dark tangle of Granger hair. She's curvier than Rose, with fuller breasts and a trimmer waist, even if her arse is a bit on the large side. Rose's body runs more to tomboyish chaser muscles. And Lily knows that Al and James still tease their cousin about her ragged, bitten fingernails. Lily looks down at her own perfectly manicured hands without pleasure. Because, somehow, Rose is the prettier girl.
Lily has taken to making bargains with fate. If Scorpius puts his sleeping bag closer to hers than to Rose's, that means they have no problem. If he gets Lily to rub sun lotion on Rose's back rather than doing it himself, that means he's not interested in her after all. It's silly, she knows, but it stops her from going insane. At the fish and chip stand, she makes another silent deal. If Scoripus orders the same thing that she does, that means that they're fine and that it's all just been in her head. To make it easier on fate, she keeps her order simple. She has the cod and chips.
Rose and Scorpius heap their twin orders of fried clams on one plate, and smother them in vinegar. Lily feels vaguely sick at sight of the greasy pile. Scorpius, because he is, no matter what, a nice guy offers her a clam. Lily shakes her head and stares at her plate. She uses her fork to draw little patterns in her mushy peas.
That night, they set up the tent on the beach. They had originally brought two tents, in case Lily and Scorpius wanted some privacy. But Rose's tent, borrowed from a friend of Hugo's, turned out to be crawling with mould, and no amount of scourgifying spells could get rid of the smell. In the end, it was easier to just enlarge the bigger tent.
Another group of campers have set up their own tents a bit further down. They look like college guys, having a boys-own style holiday. One of them has a guitar, and they sing increasingly raunchy songs as the moon climbs higher in the sky. At the beginning of their trip, Scorpius used to tease Rose whenever they same across a group of male travelers, telling her to go get lucky or to show them a good time. Lily had taken him aside and asked him to stop. Rose hasn't had a serious boyfriend in a while, and she's actually far more sensitive about it than people realise. And while she's not exactly prone to one-night stands, it's fair to say she's made some bad choices in the past. Scorpius hasn't send a word about it since; Lily finds herself wishing he would. Her own malice disgusts her.
The boys set off fireworks; great big flowers made of gold and green sparks explode in the sky above them. Rose cheers for the loudest bangs; she's always adored noise. Lily is transported back to her own childhood, watching Uncle George set off his own brand of fireworks every Victory Day. She'd been terrified of the firecracker dragons when she was little; she used to clear out all the space under her bed the night before so that she'd be ready to hide when the fireworks went off. Rose hadn't been scared at all, but she'd still join Lily under the bed just so she wouldn't have to be alone. Sitting here on the beach, she can still hear the frightening roar of the dragons and feel Rose's fingers stroking her hair. The girl in the green bikini, the girl Scorpius is looking at, no matter how much he might pretend otherwise, is still Lily's favourite cousin, still her best friend.
She knows how important it's going to be for her to remember that.
The beer and the warm summer evening have cast their spell on Rose, and she stands up and stretches. She's going to take a walk, she announces, and find out if any of those boys are worth knowing. A shadow flits across Scorpius' face, and they all pretend it didn't. He could use the exercise, he declares; he'll come with her. His voice is deceptively casual, and Lily wonders exactly who he thinks he's fooling. Rose nods; Lily realises that her friend half-expected this when she first spoke.
It's that far gone then.
To Lily's surprise, she feels nothing but relief. Maybe this means that soon it will finally all be over.
At the last minute, they remember her. Will she come with them? Doesn't she feel like a walk? Lily shakes her head, blaming the alcohol. She'll just rest here.
They walk away, and Lily knows this is it. They'll walk past the other campers and not look back. In the morning, there will be tears. There will be apologies and recriminations, and then who knows? Will everything change? Just some things? It's impossible to say. At the end of an era, who knows what comes next?
Of course, she could have postponed this. If she'd gone with them, they would have stopped at the other group of campers. They would have shared drinks, maybe smoked a bit of muggle weed if the boys had some to go around. Rose would have chosen one of them, a handsome blonde one most likely, to disappear behind the sand dunes with. And Scorpius' mouth would have gone all pinched and tight and Lily would have died a bit inside and, after all that, this would happen all over again some other night. Is there any point in fighting the inevitable?
Lily lies on her back and takes what solace she can in the softness of the sand, the crash of the ocean waves on the shore, and the familiar saltiness of her own tears.
Author: tania_sings ★
Recipient: liliths_requiem
Rating: PG-13
Ship: Scorpius/Lily Luna, Scorpius/Rose
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Never have been mine, and never will be!
Summary: It'd a strange thing to watch your boyfriend and your best friend falling in love. It's stranger still when you realise it before they do.
Author's Notes: This one was a pinch-hit, but I did my best with it. Hope it turned out okay! Written for the prompt: Flying motorcycles and fish and chips. Thanks to bendleshnitz1 for all the help!
The three of them land on a deserted strip of Cornwall beach, casting charms on the motorbikes that will make them look utterly unenchanted if any muggles should happen across them. Hot and sweaty from a day's flying, they plunge into the chilly blue water, crying out in pleasure as it washes over their sunburned skins. Rose, the strongest swimmer of the three, plunges towards the bottom of the ocean, resurfacing with a handful of seaweed and muck to rub into Scorpius' shaggy white-blonde hair. The young man swears, laughing, and wrestles with her, trying to push her head back under the surface. Lily watches them from the shallows, amazed at how very right they look together. They are totally comfortable with touching each other -- after three weeks on this round-the-country, Lily's-finally-of-age trip they've all pretty much shed their modesty -- but there's more to it than that. Rose's dark curls, looking almost black while wet, are such a pretty contrast to Scorpius' sleek pale locks, and her freckled skin against his white complexion reminds Lily of the speckled shadows that the sun makes on sand when it's filtered through leaves. Scorpius' hand is a perfect fit for the small of Rose's back, and, being nearly the same height, their lips are always ideally positioned for a kiss should they finally choose to close the gap between them.
How much longer they can keep from doing that is anyone's guess.
From this distance, Lily reflects, you'd never guess that Scorpius is not Rose's boyfriend, but hers.
After the swim, they walk along the beach. Scorpius dutifully holds Lily's hand, and she is reminded oddly of a parakeet that she had a child. She kept trying to train the bird to sit on her finger, since she knew that's what they were supposed to do. Her little pet, however, had no idea that it was meant to perch merrily on her hand, and it was positively terrified. It got to the point where the parakeet would tremble like a little blue leaf whenever Lily unlocked the cage door. She felt horrible, but she never gave up because she'd got it into her head that once the bird just learned the trick, everything would be fine. Eventually, the parakeet did learn to sit on Lily's finger without fear, but by then her gentle feelings for her pet were all mixed up with guilt and she very rarely took him out of his cage at all.
She should have learned from that; there's no pleasure in training someone to show affection for you. But there had been a time when Scorpius wanted to hold her hand, a time when he couldn't keep away from her. Now his limp hand clutched tightly in hers just feels like a cheap imitation of love.
Rose jogs ahead, putting some distance between herself and the couple. She's doing that more and more these days. Back at school, she'd had no trouble spending time with Lily and Scorpius as a pair, but now, as if instinctively, she withdraws at any sign of physical affection between her friends. At first, Lily couldn't decide whether to be hurt or grateful for this, but she's figured out that it doesn't matter. Rose has no idea that she's doing this, and, regardless of how Lily feels about it, it's still just one of a million indicators of the approach of something she's starting to see as inevitable.
Rose turns a cartwheel in the sand, and Scorpius, clearly unable to help himself or unaware of his own reactions, whistles quietly in appreciation. It's unlikely that Rose could have heard him over the crash of the surf, but she still looks back and smiles, as if responding to the feeling of admiration in the air.
Lily knows that, of the two of them, she actually has the more pleasing features. Rose's eyes are a pleasant brown, but Lily's are brilliant green. Lily's hair is a silky red curtain, a gift that she got from her Weasley relatives, while Rose, who has the Weasley name, inherited a dark tangle of Granger hair. She's curvier than Rose, with fuller breasts and a trimmer waist, even if her arse is a bit on the large side. Rose's body runs more to tomboyish chaser muscles. And Lily knows that Al and James still tease their cousin about her ragged, bitten fingernails. Lily looks down at her own perfectly manicured hands without pleasure. Because, somehow, Rose is the prettier girl.
Lily has taken to making bargains with fate. If Scorpius puts his sleeping bag closer to hers than to Rose's, that means they have no problem. If he gets Lily to rub sun lotion on Rose's back rather than doing it himself, that means he's not interested in her after all. It's silly, she knows, but it stops her from going insane. At the fish and chip stand, she makes another silent deal. If Scoripus orders the same thing that she does, that means that they're fine and that it's all just been in her head. To make it easier on fate, she keeps her order simple. She has the cod and chips.
Rose and Scorpius heap their twin orders of fried clams on one plate, and smother them in vinegar. Lily feels vaguely sick at sight of the greasy pile. Scorpius, because he is, no matter what, a nice guy offers her a clam. Lily shakes her head and stares at her plate. She uses her fork to draw little patterns in her mushy peas.
That night, they set up the tent on the beach. They had originally brought two tents, in case Lily and Scorpius wanted some privacy. But Rose's tent, borrowed from a friend of Hugo's, turned out to be crawling with mould, and no amount of scourgifying spells could get rid of the smell. In the end, it was easier to just enlarge the bigger tent.
Another group of campers have set up their own tents a bit further down. They look like college guys, having a boys-own style holiday. One of them has a guitar, and they sing increasingly raunchy songs as the moon climbs higher in the sky. At the beginning of their trip, Scorpius used to tease Rose whenever they same across a group of male travelers, telling her to go get lucky or to show them a good time. Lily had taken him aside and asked him to stop. Rose hasn't had a serious boyfriend in a while, and she's actually far more sensitive about it than people realise. And while she's not exactly prone to one-night stands, it's fair to say she's made some bad choices in the past. Scorpius hasn't send a word about it since; Lily finds herself wishing he would. Her own malice disgusts her.
The boys set off fireworks; great big flowers made of gold and green sparks explode in the sky above them. Rose cheers for the loudest bangs; she's always adored noise. Lily is transported back to her own childhood, watching Uncle George set off his own brand of fireworks every Victory Day. She'd been terrified of the firecracker dragons when she was little; she used to clear out all the space under her bed the night before so that she'd be ready to hide when the fireworks went off. Rose hadn't been scared at all, but she'd still join Lily under the bed just so she wouldn't have to be alone. Sitting here on the beach, she can still hear the frightening roar of the dragons and feel Rose's fingers stroking her hair. The girl in the green bikini, the girl Scorpius is looking at, no matter how much he might pretend otherwise, is still Lily's favourite cousin, still her best friend.
She knows how important it's going to be for her to remember that.
The beer and the warm summer evening have cast their spell on Rose, and she stands up and stretches. She's going to take a walk, she announces, and find out if any of those boys are worth knowing. A shadow flits across Scorpius' face, and they all pretend it didn't. He could use the exercise, he declares; he'll come with her. His voice is deceptively casual, and Lily wonders exactly who he thinks he's fooling. Rose nods; Lily realises that her friend half-expected this when she first spoke.
It's that far gone then.
To Lily's surprise, she feels nothing but relief. Maybe this means that soon it will finally all be over.
At the last minute, they remember her. Will she come with them? Doesn't she feel like a walk? Lily shakes her head, blaming the alcohol. She'll just rest here.
They walk away, and Lily knows this is it. They'll walk past the other campers and not look back. In the morning, there will be tears. There will be apologies and recriminations, and then who knows? Will everything change? Just some things? It's impossible to say. At the end of an era, who knows what comes next?
Of course, she could have postponed this. If she'd gone with them, they would have stopped at the other group of campers. They would have shared drinks, maybe smoked a bit of muggle weed if the boys had some to go around. Rose would have chosen one of them, a handsome blonde one most likely, to disappear behind the sand dunes with. And Scorpius' mouth would have gone all pinched and tight and Lily would have died a bit inside and, after all that, this would happen all over again some other night. Is there any point in fighting the inevitable?
Lily lies on her back and takes what solace she can in the softness of the sand, the crash of the ocean waves on the shore, and the familiar saltiness of her own tears.