InsaneJournal

Odd Rose (draco/albus s.)
Title: Odd Rose
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Pairings: Draco/Albus S.
Summary: Albus thinks that perfectionism is a dangerous state of mind.
Rating: PG
Warning: Cross-gen
Word Count: 392
Prompt Table: Here
A/N: A bit weird-ish. Written for hh_writersblock and rarepair_shorts prompt table. Also inspired by this rose pic. Mistakes are mine, let me know of any that glare out at you :)

-x-

He gave flowers just like everyone else.

Every one of Albus' past boyfriends had at some point bought him a bouquet of flowers, all sorts of shapes, types, and colors and waxed on and on about how delicate he was, how petal soft his skin was, his blush, his smile, his countenance all compared to one flower and the next.

But only Draco gave him a tainted rose.

It was remarkable, not what one would too easily call beautiful, more remarkable than anything else, odd even. Albus thought of it as tainted because of its curious patterns that looked somewhat like burn scars across its otherwise soft red skin.

He didn't quite understand why he loved it so much, why his heartstrings tightened as he caressed the soft blemished petals. He didn't comprehend as to why he'd feel special; why he'd think Draco special for it- after all it was just another rose, another flower.

He gently tugged a marked petal loose and ran it slowly over his cheek.

There was just something to not being perfect and up to par that Albus appreciated (it was inevitable really, growing up Harry Potter's doppelganger, his son, the perfect student, the sweet boy with his father's shy smile).

With Draco he felt like this flower, not quite right, not quite perfect, but still remarkable, still a rose- more a work in progress. He didn't have to fit a mold, conform to some expectation. Draco saw him for what he was and wanted him as Albus felt he was- ever changing and always growing.

He placed the long stem into a tall narrow vase.

Maybe it was the way Draco looked at him, possessive and measuring; how his every touch asked for more but never set a limit. Oh there was adoration (maybe love), but there was a challenge in every glance, something that didn't quite let him be still and languish in self-contentment, always pushing him to be more: stronger, a better lover, a better man.

Truth be told Albus feared contentment; it's stagnation appalled him, not only because it meant that there was no more to achieve, but because the deeper parts of him undoubtedly knew that would be when Draco would cease to find him remarkable.

So yes, there was something to imperfection; it was certainly more fascinating than perfectly normal.

-x-

A/N: I'd definitely be interested to hear what you got from this. It was a bit of an odd one for me. All feedback is love.