The Laws Of Everything Are No Laws At All. They Are Stardust and The Ocean
“Anecdoche”
“Already know that one.”
“Damnit! Opia?”
“Use it in a sentence.”
“The colour of your eyes always gives me opia.”
“Hm, nope. No idea about this one.”
“Yes! It represents the ambiguous intensity you get when looking someone in the eye.”
“The color of my eyes gives you Opia?” Scorpius asks with a smirk.
James should have used a different sentence.
Thankfully Scorpius shows him mercy, by letting the topic go and asks “Zenosyne?”
It’s James turn to grin.
“That one’s too easy”
Scorpius sighs defeated.
It’s a new game they have been playing for awhile.
It came to existence after Scorpius had used a weird word in a sentence the first time and James had asked him what it meant.
From then on it had become some sorts of competition to find as many unusual words with interesting meanings as possible.
James loved it.
The first time Scorpius had come to him, face flushed from running, eyes shining and out of breath to share a new exciting word he had found, James almost felt his soul jump out of his body from joy.
Scorpius had found a new word and had thought of him.
He had run to him to share it with him.
The word had been vellichor
The strange wistfulness of a used book store
Who knew there was a word for that.
James had to smile at the though of how invested the two had been at that discovery. They had acted like children, jumping up and down as if they had made some incredible discovery. And maybe it was.
From then on James regularly sneaked small pieces of parchment paper into Scorp’s robe while he passed with new and unusual words on it. It was a risky game to give each other things in public but no one had noticed. Well. Except for the time Scorp managed to hide the piece of paper into James morning tea, making him spit out the whole drink onto the table in front of his whole house.
“Werifesteria” Scorpius said.
James frowned. That one he didn’t know. He looked at the other one and shook his head.
“I love Werifesteria. We have done it together a few times by now”
“Hmmm, still no clue.”
Werifesteria
To wander longingly through the forest in search of mystery
They were sitting in the room behind the angel.
Their little corner of the world.
Yes indeed
their
The room looked different know.
The once empty bookshelf had been filled to the brim by all of James’ books and even some of his own notebooks.
There were dictionaries sprawled out on the second desk that had been a pain to bring there without getting caught.
There were pens and pencils, even some highlighters and coloured pencils.
Sketchbooks had appeared after Scorpius had confessed he liked drawing and painting.
James had brought in a record player that had by now become Scorpius obsession. James had only brought a couple records he had but the collection had grown to almost thirty records after Scorpius had brought some too, shily admitting he liked muggle music.
There was a bean bag and a rocking chair from each boy respectively, though they constantly switched who sat where.
James brought a small string of fairy lights and small stove from home, that had usually been reserved for family camping trips, but was now used to make hot chocolate and coffee for the boys.
James curls his nose every time he smelled the bitter taste of coffee and Scorpius snarls every time the rich, liquid chocolate heaven was poured by a happy James into his mug. Yet both boys never really mean it, the respective smells melting together with the one of old books and the woody one of the fire, creating a unique smell that felt like home.
Yes, James thinks, this was home.
His friends had started getting annoyed by James’ constant disappearances but the boy had tries to lower the tension by pretending he was meeting girls.
The boys had stopped asking then only giving him winks as he left in the evening and came back in the morning. Still James could feel the tension rising
The rest of fourth year went, well it went.
He spends every free moment he had in the angel room and the library, preferably with the blond. Cold nights are spend at the fireplace with a book in hand, as summer draws nearer the adventures in the forest and the lake begin again. The hours in class, on the field and with the other Gryffindor are mostly spend counting the minutes until the next meeting with the blond.
James knows he is playing with fire. Too many of his poems had started being about eyes made of storm and an angel made of rain, but James can’t bring himself to stop.
Scorpius is just- Merlin he was like-
Like a holophrasis
A complex idea in a single word
He was rain.
Melancholic, cleansing and so romantic.
Something you long for, deeply in your soul.
He was the whole universe.
Something you can’t grasp, something dark, undefinable.
Filled with stars and planets, quirks and virtuous.
He was a poem.
The raw kind, still unedited with scribbled ideas on the sides, crossed out words, added ones, ink drops and dried out flowers between each page.
Merlin, Scorpius-
he was-
Everything.