"Come on Weasley! Lighten up, would you?"

I glare at the smirking loon beside me, devising ways to murder him. (Or at least shut him up.) He's spent the past hour bothering the crap out of me.

"No! I'm not playing with you, Malfoy."

He crosses his arms over his chest, thus making me think about his chest. My eyes stray from his, grazing over his abdomen. I noticed he's clad in his Oxford shirt, and his tie is hanging loosely around his neck.

"You look like you want to play with me, Weasley."

My eyes widen and my ears go red. I've been spotted ogling Scorpius Malfoy, one of the most pompous people I have the misfortune to share a common room with. I revert my eyes back to his face, only to find them traveling over the same places I had just been caught looking at on him. I smirk, something I've admittedly gotten from the cheeky albino.

"Not as much as you do, Malfoy." I splash fake sugar on my words, and stand from the lounger I was seated at.

"Well, I haven't played in so long, and girls know boys like to play more often than them."

I study his face. Waiting for the Slytherin in him to pull something nasty. But he doesn't move or advance like he always does when we fight like this. He just stands there, in his effigy like beauty, dazzling me. You want to know the worst part? He doesn't even know he's doing it.

He has no idea how much the mere thought of him vexes me. Which, alas, vexes me more.

"What gives you the idea I want to play?" I'm only teasing now, but Scorpius hasn't quite caught on.

He smiles at me. Not his usual Malfoy smile, laced with that ego I've spent the past seven years trying to break. But a smile I never thought I'd see from him, a smile unhindered and, dare I say, coy.

"I can hope, can't I?"

I laugh at this. After all, it was rather charming. Even if it is an oaf like Malfoy.

I sigh, giving him his favorite smile of mine. "Fine. I'll play!"

A childish giddy enters his eyes and plays upon his features. It's in these moments I realize just how gorgeous this little brute is. I watch him walk to me, a silly bounce in his step.

A swarm of butterflies, the same cliché always used, flutter around in my stomach making their way up my chest. Honestly, I think they're trying to kill me. It's these moments that attracted me to Scorpius in the first place. A good four years ago now. The times when he acts like he's gotten a wish granted. The times when he lets the simple things overwhelm him. It's in these rare moments he shows himself, he opens up to life, to the world… to me.

It's a sad truth really. I've found myself madly, irrevocably in love with a wanker.

A sexy wanker, but a wanker nonetheless.

"Are you going to start, or should I?"

My head snaps up to him, a little startled. "You, I suppose."

He tilts his head to the side and reaches a hand to my face. "You all right?"

I smile for the millionth time, "I'm fine, how are we playing this time?"

I watch the same childishness gleaming in his eye again, and I'm reminded of how helpless I am when it comes to him.

"We start by giving the name of someone who we'd most definitely shag if we were given the chance," he says. "And then we get to ask a personal question about the other person's sexual preferences or… well… sexual anything really. Or just anything."

I roll my eyes. What a typical sex game. "Start then," I say, feigning boredom.

"I would shag… Abi Titmuss," he says with a smirk. "Where's the stupidest place you've ever done it?"

"The stupidest place would be… Professor Longbottom's desk during Christmas Hols." I smile at the memory. "I would shag… Alex Pettyfer." Scorpius scoffs and I chuckle. "Where's the stupidest place you've done it?"

He smirks but I notice a tinge of pink to his usual pale complexion.

"My stupidest place would also be Professor Longbottom's desk on Christmas Hols." He shoots me a look. "I would shag… Lily Allen." I laugh, rather loudly. If push came to shove, I'd shag Lily Allen myself. "Who was your first?"

"Johnny Depp… He was so gentle," I joke and he glares at me. "What? I am tattooed on his chest." I laugh at myself. "Granted, so is Lily…" Malfoy clears his throat and I glance at him.

He's curious as to whom I'm going to say. "My first was Henry. The one I dated all fifth year."

He frowns at me. "You mean Krum? The one who cheated on you the entire time you dated?"

"I didn't know he was cheating," I say, picking at my nails. "I guess I can only be enough for awhile."

"Rubbish." He spits angrily. "I'd never…"

I look up at him and smile. "I'd shag… Hugh Grant."

He makes a playful gag face and smiles.

I sigh, "Do you love me?"

He's taken aback by the question. I can tell by his stammering and nervousness. Not to mention his jaw collecting dander from the rug when it hit the floor.

He doesn't answer so I avert my gaze. A slight crushing is pushing down on my chest and shoulders.

"I've never said it have I?" I shake my head, still unable to find the courage to look at him. "Weasley, I love you more than any Malfoy's ever been able to muster. I'm deeper in love with you than, well, my father is with himself."

I feel tears stinging the edge of my eyes, and I look at him beaming. He returns the gesture, except his, I'm sure looks a hell of a lot better.

"I would shag… Leona Lewis." He smiles again, "Rose…"

I watch as he pauses. The regular haughty nonchalance that I'm used to from him vanishes. He stands. The unhindered form of Scorpius. I follow pursuit and stand as well.

"Yes?" His tone frightens me.

I watch him turn away from me and my heart freezes in its pace. He's ditching me.

I watch him, heartbreakingly slow, turn towards me. A velvet box clutched in his fist. I watch him clumsily walk to me, bowing in front of me on one knee. I watch as his awkward fingers slip over the velvet, desperate to open it.

"Rose…" He says again, his eyes, a stunning gray, anxious and waiting, dancing with mine. "Will you marry me?"

A sob escapes my lips as I burst into a fit of joyous laughter. In other words, I sound like a moaning cow. Scorpius regains his posture and towers over me, smiling.

He kisses me gently. "I suppose that's a yes?"

"Vigorously so," I croak, holding out my hand for the ring. He is putting the band on my finger when a letter catches the light. I take it from him and hold it up, trying to read it.

I laugh, placing the band on my finger. "You had 'Sex Games' engraved on my ring?"