04 | glasses

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Quidditch, to Albus, was a success. He didn't die during any of the flips the broom hosted, but that was mainly because he was holding onto Scorpius so tightly, he learnt more about the game, Quidditch, itself, and most importantly, he got to spend time with Scorpius.

But that was hours ago.

Now, it was around eight in the night, and both boys were sitting in their dorm, content after finishing a great dinner. Scorpius held his chin in his hand as he sat quietly.

Albus practiced his handwriting with his left hand (he liked learning unnecessary new things, something Scorpius admired) on his bed, while Scorpius read quietly on his own. Everybody else in the dorm was either asleep, out somewhere else— where they shouldn't have been— or downstairs, in the common room.

To say the least, the Slytherin dorm was surprisingly quiet for a Thursday night. The dorm looked the same as it would've in the morning: dark. But that's how Albus liked it.

Although he seemed fine, Albus couldn't help but get a feeling of discomfort from all the silence. He always handled quiet situations awkwardly, and he always found himself speaking. So, he tossed his quill and parchment to the side and walked over to Scorpius' very-close-bed.

"Hi," Scorpius greeted, not looking up from his book. His feet were crossed as they almost made it to the edge, and his head was propped up on a pillow. Albus didn't care to acknowledge what he was reading.

"Do you really need those things?" Albus said quickly and out of context, bending down to point at Scorpius' glasses. He pushed them up the bridge of Scorpius' nose as Scorpius answered.

"Of course I do. I can't really read much without them."

Albus pretended to muse, and then suddenly pulled Scorpius' glasses off of him, smiling widely. Scorpius flinched.

"What—" Scorpius said quietly, closing his book. "Give them back!"

Albus shook his head and almost giggled, while Scorpius jumped up from his bed and chased a now-running Albus.

Albus whisper-yelled mockingly as he ran ahead of Scorpius. He tried to contain his laughter for the sake of the sleeping Slytherins, but still managed to be heard by Scorpius. "It's eight! No one reads at eight!"

"I do! I read at eight! Give those back!" Scorpius sighed, gaining speed.

The dorm they were assigned to wasn't  all that big, and yet Albus still managed to keep Scorpius' glasses from him for a decent amount of time.

"Al-" Scorpius advanced much quicker on Albus, and ended up right on his heels.

Still going full speed with no sign of stopping, Scorpius ran into Albus as Albus moved closer to his own bed. Accidentally, Scorpius pushed Albus onto his sunken four-poster bed, with his hands laying on Albus' chest for strength.

Then, not even a second later, Scorpius fell on top of Albus, and both boys froze, confused. Albus' quill rolled off his mattress, and his ink bottle would've cracked if it hadn't hit the carpet.

Scorpius' hands were still on Albus' chest, and now his knees were pinned on either side of the bed that was under Albus' waist. Albus had his hands clenching Scorpius' glasses still, and he locked eyes with Scorpius before letting the grip on the glasses loosen.

Scorpius continued to stare at Albus, even though he knew that he should've gotten off of him and taken his glasses back. Albus' eyes averted from Scorpius', to his lips, and then back up to his eyes. Immediately, Albus turned pink up to his ears, and Scorpius could feel himself reddening, too.

As the boys almost got lost in each other's eyes, Scorpius cleared his throat and got off of Albus quietly. Albus felt his heart sink slightly, but sat up as soon as Scorpius had gotten off of him.

Still blushing unforgivably, Scorpius stuck his hand out in front of Albus. His hair was tossed to one side now, and yet his bangs fell loose in front of his eyes. Albus could still feel the piercing grey gaze of Scorpius' eyes as he stared at him.

"Glasses?" He asked, waiting for Albus to return them.

Albus waited to catch his breath— and confidence— before responding.

Albus smirked softly. He looked down at Scorpius' glasses and moved them close to his chest."I don't know, I might keep them."

"No, you won't." Scorpius chuckled, reaching over Albus' legs and grabbing his glasses. Albus pouted.

Scorpius put them back on, a small smudge on the corner of the glass, but not before Albus asked, "You're still going to read?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Scorpius asked, re-opening his book. He wandered back to his bed and fell onto it.

SCORBUS // consider me yours.Where stories live. Discover now