Once, Oliver loved autumn. There was a certain charm to the brisk weather and falling leaves. Now, the streaks of red and yellow among the green taunt him, serving as a cruel reminder that their days are numbered.
This time next week, he'll be back at Hogwarts, wearing a brave face and pretending everything is normal. Meanwhile, Charlie will be forever away in Romania, chasing dragons and chasing dreams. Oliver wishes Charlie would chase him instead.
"You're quiet," Charlie notes.
The younger boy nods because it's all he can do. He doesn't trust himself to speak.
"What's wrong?"
Oliver shrugs. "It looks like rain." It isn't a lie, but both know it isn't what's bothering him.
"Oliver..."
"You'll write to me, won't you?" Oliver asks, hating how needy his voice sounds.
Charlie gives a crooked grin. It's the very grin that made Oliver want him in the first place. The grin that can draw you in as easily as it can break your heart. "Of course I will. You worry too much."
Oliver isn't sure if he believes him. Charlie's first love will always be dragons. Once, he'd been okay with that. "Promise?"
There he goes again. Too needy. Too young. Everything Oliver wishes he wasn't because it's everything Charlie isn't.
"Of course," Charlie repeats with a laugh.
Oliver still can't bring himself to believe him, but he nods like he does. Charlie doesn't fall for it.
Strong hands rest gently on Oliver's shoulders. "I love you, okay? Whatever happens, that won't change."
Oliver opens his mouth to protest, to tell him he can't know that. But Charlie presses his lips against his, momentarily silencing his fears. Oliver clings to him because Charlie is the only sturdy thing in his life, and he can't let go.