There were so many striking things about Scorpius Malfoy. Really, there were, no foolin'. He had long, straight pale blond hair. His eyes were boltgun metal grey, stark against his face, just a light tint of lavender. His skin was pale like lilies and just as soft. The light smattering of freckles (from his mother's side, obviously, Draco insisted) across his nose was almost as adorable as his smile. No, the thing that struck Albus Potter most about Scorpius were his lips.
A light shell pink, sometimes darker when nibbled during intense concentration or deep speculation. A perfect bow shape, always slightly parted. Occasionally a rosy tongue would peek out to moisten them, their glisten similar to the one Albus would always acquire on his brow when he watched. Yes, Scorpius's lips were perfect in every way. Often Albus daydreamed about how they would feel against his own, warm and pliable, begging to be bitten and—
A scruffy head shook lightly to break his daze.
"C'mon, the library closes in ten minutes and I still need help with this question."
Albus mentally sighed and put on a fake friendly smile, leaning towards Scorpius to look at his Arithmancy paper. One day he'd know how his friend's lips tasted. For now, he would be content with daydreaming. He'd have to be.