lysanderlouislorcan; daffodil

as requested by not-gonna-grow-up

They're a cataclysm in and of themselves, the Scamander twins.

Louis thinks he's never had to do anything harder than picking a favorite. Lysander is wild, unorthodox passion, with his hair sticking up in every direction and his wand a weapon of mass destruction. And Lorcan is calm, quirky peculiarity, babbling on about mythical creatures like they exist and refusing to pluck a daffodil for fear of hurting it.

Louis doesn't really want to choose, because they both have their pros and their cons, and he loves all of their attributes as much as he allows himself. Lysander goes with him in one way, when he needs fire and heat and nights where he's up until four doing things that'd make his mother blush. Lorcan goes with him in the other way, when he needs warmth and a friend and nights where he's up until four talking and wearing his heart on his sleeve. He thinks if they could just be one person, he'd be happy. He wonders if there's a spell for that.

It doesn't matter. Louis is a sinner, and always will be.