chapter image by GryffindorGirl153
Chapter Four - Non-Sense-Sense
I can’t see much. It’s like God’s gone and blotted out the sun with his stubborn little fingertip. Everything is black.
But all my other senses are still intact, though not all of them I can stand.
I don’t mind the single safe one. Sound. I can hear the gentle swaying of the trees in the cold January wind. A robin chirps happily nearby, followed by the swift fluttering of its wings as it flies away. I can also hear the dull murmur of my fellow classmates in Greenhouse One floating around the corner and down the slope toward me.
Yeah, sound is pretty safe.
Well, when you block out Scorpius’ ragged breath. This particular sound links to the other senses I, so far, haven’t been able to fully process.
Like, for instance, touch. One of his large, strong hands is clutching my waist tightly, and the other is cupped around my chin, tugging my face upward. His fingers are freezing against my bare skin, but he’s persistent as he absently draws small circles on my lower back.
Also, there’s smell. It’s nothing pungent; actually, it’s exactly the opposite. Scorpius’ cologne is so mouthwatering I found myself taking more unsteady breaths than usual just to inhale his strong scent. It reminds me of a walk along the beach at sunset, the warm water splashing up onto my bare legs, just like when I was a kid.
Taste? I think that’s self-explanatory. It’s still killing me, though, because he tastes better than he smells.
And last, but certainly not least, there’s feel. Okay, so I know it’s not exactly a sense – it’s a more in-depth way of thinking about touch – but I think I might need to let my mind wander over this particular non-sense-sense a bit more than the others. It’s not only because the way I feel is the only thing that bothers me right now (despite Scorpius’ obvious ‘hunger’), but also because it’s the only one I can’t fully get my head around.
How do I feel right now?
Well, considering it’s been all of three seconds since Scorpius Malfoy started kissing me – again – I think I’m feeling quite … Ugh, who am I kidding? I have no idea how I’m feeling. It’s like this big bomb has suddenly dropped out of nowhere right onto my head and smashed my brain in. Just my luck, of course, it’s left me with a sense of confusion, but has completely shut down the rest of my body. I can’t control my arms, my legs, not even my mouth, and surely that’s the most important body part to have control over in this kind of rare (rare for me, anyway) situation.
I think I want to stop. I can’t be certain, not when Scorpius’ tongue is gliding gently and torturously along my bottom lip, and his chest is pressed up against mine so tightly that I can feel his heart beating rapidly against my own. I find this funny, because, up until now, I was never really sure he even had a heart.
You see what I mean? My bomb-crushed mind can think up the lamest of things at this very moment, but it can’t send the right messages to the rest of my body to get me to kick into motion and boot Scorpius’ evil arse away from me? What kind of sick, twisted, little girl I must be to want Scorpius Malfoy to kiss me?
No. Absolutely not.
I do not – cannot – want Scorpius Malfoy.
He is like God compared to me – a perfect Greek God taken right out of a myth and placed before my eyes to mock me and tell me just how pathetically naïve I am. I should have known better, because my entire life I’ve never believed in fairytales. I’ve never once let myself think Prince Charming would someday come and sweep me off my feet.
And I most definitely never let myself think Prince Charming would come in the form of one Scorpius Malfoy.
It just doesn’t make sense.
But what does make sense? Certainly not the way Scorpius is kissing me now, like the world is about to blow up and I’m the only girl left to share saliva with. He’s fierce, but gentle at the same time, ensuring that, as his hand fists my hair, he takes care of my face, as if it’s a delicate flower. His mouth, however, is persistent on mine, his lips crashing again and again, harder and harder, against my own, as if he can’t satiate the hunger (or thirst) fast enough.
It’s very different from our first kiss, that’s for sure. There’s a new urgency that exists; it exudes from him and rolls off in waves from his body to engulf me. I think that’s why I’m confused. He’s put me under his spell. And it’s only been five seconds.
I think I’ve already lost it – that invisible but tangible grip I have on my self-control that is the only reason I’m still standing right now.
It doesn’t take long for me to let go of it. With it, my sense of right and wrong disappear, too.
In one swift movement, my arms are around his neck, and my lips close around his, allowing my tongue to meet his as it attempts to get me to respond. Scorpius seems encouraged by the sudden fire that’s been lit within me, and he abandons my hair and allows his free hand to meet his other around my waist. He pulls me closer to him, and my breasts crush against his chest. If I wasn’t so lost in the teal daze that is Scorpius, I think it would have hurt.
I can’t even begin to think about being self-conscious as I clutch him closer in return.
I can’t breathe. His scent is so wonderful, so dizzying, and I feel like I’m going to faint. I can feel my heart beating wildly out of my chest, as is his, and my eyes – which are shut tightly against the promise of reality coming back to bite me – fight the urge to open, to see his beautiful teal ones staring back at me.
He’s an amazing kisser. It’s like he knows exactly what to do. His lips fight against mine in a battle to see who can get the closer to the other. As far as I’m aware, I’m winning, because suddenly his lips aren’t there anymore. I kiss empty air before I realise he’s gone.
“Rose,” he breathes in a low, husky voice.
My eyes flash open and I stare at him, dumbfounded. My swollen lips throb.
Then the awkwardness comes back. I bite my lower lip, pulling my arms around myself, as if to confine within me the only dignity I have left. I cast my eyes to the ground as disappointment swells through me.
He’s breathing heavily. I would be, too, if I wasn’t trying so hard to refrain from embarrassing myself further.
“Rose, I’m so sorry. It’s … it’s too fast.” He whispers.
I close my eyes.
That’s it. I know I’m going to die, now, and that’s all right with me; it’s better than having to stand here and face the situation I would give anything to get out of. I wish the ground would just swallow me whole. I want to disappear off the face of the earth and have everyone forget my name …
“Rose?” His suddenly warm fingers knot through mine, and my eyes instinctively flash open again.
I want to glare at him, but I’m too ashamed.
“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly. Then, guilt becomes his dominant expression. He curses under his breath. “What have I done?”
I inhale deeply. “It’s not your fault,” I whisper against my better judgment. I want to tell him that it is his fault, but what good will that do? Sure, he attacked me first, but I responded willingly, so I committed just as much of a foul as he did. “I just … I shouldn’t have been so stupid.” I mutter.
His eyes narrow in confusion. “Stupid? Why?”
I roll my eyes. “You regret kissing me, don’t you? Again.” I should have guessed before I made a fool of myself like that. He obviously just pities me. Why else would he force himself on me like that? No boy would even consider doing anything like that with me, especially not a gorgeous, absolutely charming and mesmerising Head Boy.
He shakes his head in disbelief. “Rose, you are absurd.”
I frown up at him. I begin to protest, but his lips silence me once again.
This time it’s not as urgent. His kiss is soft and gentle, his mouth kind and generous as it moves with mine in a perfectly simultaneous rhythm. It comes so naturally to me, this time, to respond, because I’m so encompassed by his very presence.
I’m breathing heavily as he pulls away.
I prepare myself for the repulsed expression, but when I open my eyes again, he’s smiling at me. A perfectly crooked smile that takes my breath away. I blink twice.
“How’s that for ‘regret?’” He chuckles under his breath.
I exhale shakily.
His face is suddenly serious. He tilts his head to the side, studying me closely. I blush under his intent gaze, casting my eyes to the ground so that the hard thrumming of my heart isn’t quite so obvious in my expression. His warm fingertips tuck a stray strand of my fiery red hair behind my ear. And then they’re under my chin, gently tugging my face upward.
I look at him.
“Stop doing that.” I whisper.
He frowns. “Doing what?”
“Confusing me. I don’t know what’s happening here.” All of a sudden, the words come tumbling out. “I mean, sure, I felt pretty confused after you first kissed me at the Ball, but that confusion was nowhere near as bewildering as it is now. I … I don’t know if this has been your plan all along – to just perplex the hell out of me – but it’s working.” I take a deep breath and press my lips together.
He laughs loudly, and he won’t stop. I glare at him, first, because I don’t know how else to react. My brain’s telling me it’s annoying, and that I should be embarrassed that he’s laughing at me, but then, when I listen to his laugh – I mean, really listen – I can hear the several layers of music weaved into each other. It’s mesmerising, and it pulls me in completely until, suddenly, I’m laughing, too, and I can’t stop.
Our loud guffaws fill the near-silent grounds.
When the overwhelming giddiness passes, and the laughing fades, a shy smile still remains on my face as I stare past the confusion into Scorpius’ dazzling teal eyes.
He moulds his hand gently to the side of my face and smiles down at me, his mouth perfectly symmetrical and beautiful. “Whatever you might think, Rose, I don’t hate you. Not even close.”
I blush again. “Thanks. That’s reassuring.”
He laughs. I can only smile, slightly embarrassed.
His hand slides down my arm, slowly and purposefully, until his fingers weave through mine once more. I stare at our intertwined hands.
“Will you try to avoid me after this?” He asks quietly. Behind the mask of amusement in his voice, I can hear the shadowed sincerity. It makes me want to tell the truth.
I couldn’t even stop myself, even if I didn’t want to tell the truth. So, I say, “I’ll try not to,” and blush at the ground again.
“Good. Because you know I won’t avoid you.” I hear the smile in his husky voice.
I can’t help but laugh. “I know you won’t.” This makes me think of just moments ago, when I was trying to avoid him, and how much of a turn this little encounter has caused in my thoughts of him. It’s like he’s enchanted me with some kind of spell that’s made me want to believe that he really wants me.
“What are you thinking?”
I look up at him. “Nothing.”
His face is carved from sincerity. “I’m sorry if this is a little too much for you. It’s just that …” he trails off, and his forehead creases into a frown. “I swore to myself I would leave you alone after the Ball, but … when I saw you on the train, when I was that close to you … I knew I couldn’t stay away.” I watch him, mentally in pain, as he fumbles through words.
I bite my lower lip. It stings a little because it’s still swollen. What do I say? I can’t even comprehend my thoughts right now, let alone speak them. I could just bluff, but I’ve never been a good liar, and I’m sure that if I open my mouth to speak, gibberish will come tumbling out. Sometimes I just wish I was Lily, or even Dom; both of my cousins seem to have the gift of the gab. Whatever they want to say, they can just come right out and say it. I suppose it also helps that they look like perfect incarnations of runway models, and here’s me, the budget catalogue edition.
Why do I have to be the only Weasley with an appearance disorder? Maybe looking a little less unfortunate could help me speak a little more coherently around boys. Especially Scorpius Malfoy, who makes Leonardo DiCaprio look like the Grinch (even in his old-ish age).
Scorpius’ slowly-exhaled sigh pulls me back into reality – whatever reality is right now. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s all right, I understand. You can completely ignore me, if you want. I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t drunk when I kissed you at the Ball, and I meant what I said on the train about wanting to see you again.” His eyes are a teal fire.
I nod once. It’s all I can do to prevent the faint fest I feel coming on.
He flashes me his shiny grin and my knees buckle. In the distance, the bell rings for lunch time, and I blink, in a daze. Already? I could have sworn only two minutes have passed since Scorpius dragged me away from my clean record.
I glance at my watch. It’s twelve-thirty.
Scorpius notices my action and scans the grounds. My classmates begin filing out of the Greenhouse, and I become paranoid that one might suddenly decide to glance in our direction and find Rose Weasley, the ultimate geek, alone by the Forbidden Forest with Scorpius Malfoy, the Head Boy-slash-permanent record criminal-slash-kisser of nerds-slash-Greek God.
He catches me staring at him. I blush, looking to the ground again. I shrug out of his robes and hand them back to him, careful not to brush his fingers during the exchange. He notices my sudden shyness and reluctance and laughs quietly to himself.
“I knew you were going to be difficult, but really, why are you so shy? What happened to cursing me to hell every second word?”
I have to give him credit for trying to lighten an un-lighten-able mood.
“I … I just have to sort out some stuff first, okay?” I say, unsure of whether my voice is solid enough to be understood.
He nods. Understanding is apparent in his burning eyes.
I press my lips together. “Thanks.” I remain standing there awkwardly like the social geek I am.
Scorpius won’t tear his eyes from mine. “I’ll be hanging around, just so you know. Waiting for your decision.”
I blink. I wasn’t aware I have a decision to make.
He notices my blank expression. “I’m serious about you, Rose. It all seems a little sudden – believe me, I know – but I mean everything that has happened between us. I … want to be with you.” He chokes on the last sentence. I think it’s because he’s male and males have problems expressing any sort of emotions.
He could have fooled me.
I swallow hard and nod. I ditch class, expecting to break out into a fight that may have led to fist wars, only to have the Scorpius Malfoy express his unyielding desire to obtain me. Well, at least that’s what I got from ‘I’ll be hanging around.’
He smiles again, and I forget to breathe.
“I’ll see you around.” He says.
He pauses, then, inches from me, and I almost faint as I prepare myself for another heart-stopping saliva exchange, but he merely leans down and presses his lips tenderly against my forehead. My heart spurts hyperactively. It’s no tongue battle but it’s so sweet and affectionate that I find myself swooning in a very un-Rose-Weasley-like fashion.
Only Scorpius Malfoy could completely flip my personality upside down.
I’m allowed one last intense gaze into his scorching eyes before I’m watching his back as he glides agilely up the slope and out of sight. I’m still clutching my heart, praying it won’t stop again, as I amble after him in a very clumsy manner. Trust me to go and make myself look like even more of an idiot, on top of the idiot I already am. I’m glad that no one can see me and my crazy antics; they’re all already inside in the Great Hall.
The thought of Dom makes me hurry. The last thing I want is her acting all suspicious because I didn’t arrive to lunch at the same time as all the other Gryffindor Herbologists. I stumble and fall a couple of times, but only because I let my mind wander every now and then when I’m not paying attention.
Holy. Mother. Of. God.
I suddenly stop in my tracks and spin around to gape at the exact spot where I stood just moments before. And then the exact spot where the Greek God stood just moments before.
I’m screwed up. I’m screwed up. I’m screwed up.
My cousins would kill me if they found out.
I cursed a lengthy string of profanities as I fell back into my ferocious power walking. Do not think about Scorpius Malfoy. Do not think about Scorpius Malfoy.
Do not think about Scorpius Malfoy.
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