Snape stared fixedly at the boy, especially those emerald-green eyes.
He could not help but feel dazed. He knew those eyes far too well; they had appeared in his dreams countless times. Yet whenever he awoke, those happy memories vanished with his tears.
Those beautiful emerald-green pupils seemed like a doorway, and through them, he seemed to see her again.
It was as though Lily were still sitting on a stool as she had before, her beautiful deep-red hair fluttering in the wind. Sometimes, a few strands would brush across his face, carrying a faint, sweet scent of youth.
He remembered that morning, just as the sun had risen. He opened his eyes and met a pair of bright green eyes.
Lily quickly pulled up the blanket and covered his face. "Sev, you're awake."
"Mm. Did you sleep well?"
"Uh..." Lily seemed rather shy. "I had a dream."
"What dream?"
He toyed with the hair that had slipped out from beneath the blanket, winding the soft, loose deep-red strands around his fingers.
"...I dreamed that you held me, and then... asked whether I wanted to marry you..."
Snape felt his eyes grow moist. Regret and pain twisted together in his heart, becoming needles that pierced his flesh, but the pain in his soul ran far deeper than that.
Many times, he had asked himself: if he had confessed to her directly back then and gone down on one knee to propose, would things have turned out differently?
Snape looked away, greedily searching that young face for more traces of Lily.
But... black hair. Those damned Potter Family traits.
The lean face and build, the tall height—just like that damned James.
Damn it, damn it!
Other than those beautiful eyes, this child did not resemble Lily in the slightest!
Snape's heart