Morsels of Memories
By Simply Shelby

All she wanted was a cosy white-washed farmhouse with a red door and a temperamental fireplace and he was going to give it to her.


The way her almost silvery red hair hung down to the middle of her back and swished when she walked mesmerized him.


She liked the way he tried not to smile when he admonished Oliver for putting gum in Sophie's hair.


'Cmere,' he commanded her, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff, and she did because she trusted him not to let her fall.


'Sod off!' she cursed at him and called him names, but he was still leaving her behind and nothing would ever change that.


'They'd be proud,' she told him one day when he was feeling particularly lonely, 'of who've you become.' He already knew that, he just wished they were here to tell him.


He smiled at her and she forgot everything she was supposed to be saying to him.


He could see the disappointment in his godfather's eyes and he didn't think he could live under that kind of pressure anymore.


'Come see your new sister,' his godfather invited.
'S'not my sister,' he evaded, wondering if that made him a bad godson.But the man pretended not to hear and he wondered if that made him a bad godfather.


Every time she saw him with their son, she found she'd forget to breathe.


No one he knew ever talked about his parents, so he decided to find someone he didn't know.


When the cuppa hot chocolate was set in front of him, he glanced up at her and the look in her eyes told him that everything would be just fine.


She was the brightest in her class, but somehow she knew that she'd never live up to what he had been. For some reason, she didn't care.


He broke as many rules as he could because that was the one thing he knew his father had done and he was determined to be just like him.


Two years wasn't that much of an age difference, she thought, but her parents seemed to think otherwise.


It annoyed him that she always knew the things he didn't want anyone knowing, but it helped knowing she could listen and understand.


After he kissed her, he would brush his thumb across her delicate smattering of freckles wonderingly, as it was only February and much too early for even the smallest amount of freckles.


AN: I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you enjoy it.
Review, please.