Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Everyone needs to listen to Toothpaste Kisses by The Maccabees about a million times. This was just me experimenting and moping about how I have no chance with a hot upperclassman at my school. (But oh God he needs to get in my bed right now.) The only way I can really describe this fic as pointless, and a summary of what I think is Lily/Teddy in Teddy's mind.
we'll do the things that lovers do
put the stars in our eyes
She dances, and he watches.
Never gets back up and dances with her. Never places his hands on her sharp hips like he dreams, never pulls her close and rests his chin on the top of her head and breathes in the scent of her. Always watches. Always imagines.
(It's not like they could be together in this world called reality.)
They lie underneath the stars at nights, like clichés they kind of wish they were. He glances at her with an underlying longing that he's never seen before, and breaks his own heart.
(See, the thing is, whenever he looks away with that hot blush covering his cheeks, that's the moment she chooses to look back.)
They're this never-ending love story of perpetual sorrow, of twists and turns and dragon-back rides, of running away but always coming back.
How can this work, how can this ever work? he asks himself every night in his head, and, well, he never finds the answer. Do you ever find an answer? Is there an answer? But all he knows for sure is when he wakes up in the morning her image is the first coherent thought in his mind, and the last when he goes to sleep at night (but he doesn't remember going to sleep anymore, just recalls dreams of her rudely interrupted by the arrival of sunlight.)
She's thinking they could be together.
And he's thinking that he will stick to loving her from afar and giving her a happy ending his own way. Even if it means he's unhappy for the rest of his life, if it means that she'll be smiling he will let her run off with Scorpius Malfoy or Lysander Scamander or whoever's heart she's captured (he can't blame them, after all, she's the most perfect flaw you've ever had.) Even if it means standing beside her groom, watching her marry someone who'll never love her as much as he does. Even if it means walking away and never seeing her again. Even if means she'll never love him and no one will ever love him and he'll be alone (he's used to it, anyway.)
If she's happy, he'll do it. That's love, right? Wanting nothing more than for the other person to feel your love in whatever way you can achieve? To want nothing but sunshine in their lives, even if it means standing in the rain; to want nothing more than for their fairytale, even if it means you'll end up killed by the Wicked Witch.
(Even if it means you're not their Prince Charming.)
And we're in this world to love, aren't we?
We're in this world to care. We're in this world for passion, for kindness, for emotion and infatuation and soft kisses underneath haunting moonlight. And not to sound like a hopeless romantic or anything, he most likely would not be able to live without her; fact.
(He's believing now.)