Written for @drarrymicrofic 's song prompt: Keep Driving by Harry Styles | Warning: Smut if you squint. Otherwise is all fluff lol | Rating: T | Read on Ao3
It’s your last day at Hogwarts.
Sunlight pours from the fancy glass windows at the Great Hall, creating intricate patterns made up of shadows and light on the empty, long wooden tables.
You pour maple syrup on your French toast before taking a bite. The syrup gets on your fingers, sticky and sweet, you lick it off, and the taste reminds you of someone’s kiss the night before.
Bringing your coffee cup to your lips, you see someone gaze at you from the other end of the table. The same eyes that held so much hope and fear during the war. You watch them through the rim of your cup, and long after they’ve looked away, you keep staring.
You wonder if you’ll ever see them again.
It’s been two years since the war.
You’re having your extremely early breakfast at a local Muggle coffee shop. You ordered your usual, French toast with maple syrup and black coffee. You thank a god for it. Even though you wouldn’t call yourself religious, there’s something peaceful about having someone to thank for life’s little wonders.
Short moments later, someone walks in. Their hair shines like gold under the morning sun. They turn around, ready to leave the coffee shop, but you call out their name.
You order pancakes for two. You’ve got a new usual breakfast.
You moved across the world with the love of your life, leaving the war and everything else behind. The teardrop-shaped island has been your new home since you left, and you never looked back.
Breakfasts are spent by the sea with a view of the vast horizon right on the brink of sunrise. The world has never felt so open until now.
You have learned to cook breakfast in different ways. Your relationship with cooking hasn’t always been the best, but you have learned to love every bit of it, just like you have learned to love them with each passing day.
Today’s are hash browns and egg yolks. The first year of dating them, you learn that they are not fond of eating egg whites, so you take the time to cook your eggs separately. It takes a little bit more time out of your early mornings, but you don’t mind.
It’s the morning after your seventh anniversary, and you’ve both spent all night making love. You realise you’re going to spend the rest of your life loving them. You’ve always been a morning person, but you’ve never loved regular mornings as much as the morning they’ve asked for your hand in marriage.
“I will always love you,” they say after you’ve said ‘yes’. You kiss them a little longer and hold them a little tighter.
The emerald on your ring finger shines beautifully under the barest hint of sunlight. A soft, shy smile plays upon your lips when they tell you the colour reminds them of your eyes.
They cook breakfast for you today. You watch them struggle a little bit, and you laugh softly as they curse when an eggshell accidentally falls onto the pan. Breakfast is spent with half burnt pancakes and maple syrup-stained kisses. You wouldn’t have it any other way.