ginny/luna; r; i'm living in an age that calls darkness light
a/n: so it's short but i wanted to write about that, i guess? i hope you like it : )
This night is a hot night, and those flowers are the wrong kid, big and blooming with blushing petals, staining the night red. It's too reminiscent of the war to be beautiful, but it probably would have been before, the way life violence used to be beautiful until it was their skins the bruises marred and their lovers death took.
"So," Ginny says, looking up at Luna, who's still walking amongst the flowers, looking around her, "you came."
"Of course I came," Luna says airily, brushing her fingertips to a flower's leaves, and Ginny wants to reach out and steady her, to make sure she doesn't leave. She doesn't. Luna turns towards her, her eyes blue like the ice from the other side of the world. "Did you think I wouldn't?"
Ginny shrugs. "I don't know." The war made her doubt everything.
"We missed you at the wedding, you know," she adds. "There was cake and everything. It was nice."
Luna nods distractedly. "Cake attracts moon frogs," she says.
Ginny should know how to respond to that by now, but she doesn't. "Oh."
"It's too soon for a wedding, anyway," Luna adds, quieter, lower; and if Ginny weren't listening, the way she does every time Luna is near, she probably wouldn't have heard it.
This she can understand - that the war is still too close, that they're too many dead friends resting underneath their feet, too much blood shed, to laugh and dance and pretend to be happy. But she's fiercely loyal, always has been, and it's her brother. It's as simple as that, really (except when it isn't).
"You should sit down," Ginny says. Her lungs are high in her throat, and she feels like she's going to throw up if Luna doesn't stop moving.
Luna looks over to her, looking a little surprised, but she sits anyway, folding her knees like she's doing Ginny a favor.
"So," Ginny starts, but she doesn't know what to say, so instead she picks at the ground and lets the dirt smudge on her fingers. Her jeans will be dirty too, she thinks.
"You should kiss me now," Luna says, her fingers laced in her lap. The moonlight shines behind her and makes her glow, cold and delicate. Ginny hadn't noticed the print of her dress. Flowers. Daffodils.
"Yeah, okay," she says, and leans in. Luna's sigh looks like a smile, or maybe it's the other way around.
+
"I miss the war," Luna says when they're lying down, after, her breasts heaving a little when she talks.
Ginny startles. Every time someone mentions the war is like an electroshock. "Okay," she says, because she can't say she understands. She doesn't. She doesn't understand Luna, never has.
Luna rolls on her side to face her. Her nipple shines pink like a timid gem. "It's okay if you don't understand," she says, and bends to pepper a flurry of kisses on Ginny's stomach.
"Is it really?" Ginny asks, and bites down on a gasp when Luna's cool lips brush over hers.
Luna's face comes up from between her legs, her chin a little shiny. She smiles gently. "No," she says, and shrugs, the movement rolling softly on her shoulders. "But I'm used to it."
Ginny wonders what crushing sadness would feel like, but she can't remember, so she closes her eyes. Enjoy, she tells herself, and does just that.
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a/n: so it's short but i wanted to write about that, i guess? i hope you like it : )
This night is a hot night, and those flowers are the wrong kid, big and blooming with blushing petals, staining the night red. It's too reminiscent of the war to be beautiful, but it probably would have been before, the way life violence used to be beautiful until it was their skins the bruises marred and their lovers death took.
"So," Ginny says, looking up at Luna, who's still walking amongst the flowers, looking around her, "you came."
"Of course I came," Luna says airily, brushing her fingertips to a flower's leaves, and Ginny wants to reach out and steady her, to make sure she doesn't leave. She doesn't. Luna turns towards her, her eyes blue like the ice from the other side of the world. "Did you think I wouldn't?"
Ginny shrugs. "I don't know." The war made her doubt everything.
"We missed you at the wedding, you know," she adds. "There was cake and everything. It was nice."
Luna nods distractedly. "Cake attracts moon frogs," she says.
Ginny should know how to respond to that by now, but she doesn't. "Oh."
"It's too soon for a wedding, anyway," Luna adds, quieter, lower; and if Ginny weren't listening, the way she does every time Luna is near, she probably wouldn't have heard it.
This she can understand - that the war is still too close, that they're too many dead friends resting underneath their feet, too much blood shed, to laugh and dance and pretend to be happy. But she's fiercely loyal, always has been, and it's her brother. It's as simple as that, really (except when it isn't).
"You should sit down," Ginny says. Her lungs are high in her throat, and she feels like she's going to throw up if Luna doesn't stop moving.
Luna looks over to her, looking a little surprised, but she sits anyway, folding her knees like she's doing Ginny a favor.
"So," Ginny starts, but she doesn't know what to say, so instead she picks at the ground and lets the dirt smudge on her fingers. Her jeans will be dirty too, she thinks.
"You should kiss me now," Luna says, her fingers laced in her lap. The moonlight shines behind her and makes her glow, cold and delicate. Ginny hadn't noticed the print of her dress. Flowers. Daffodils.
"Yeah, okay," she says, and leans in. Luna's sigh looks like a smile, or maybe it's the other way around.
+
"I miss the war," Luna says when they're lying down, after, her breasts heaving a little when she talks.
Ginny startles. Every time someone mentions the war is like an electroshock. "Okay," she says, because she can't say she understands. She doesn't. She doesn't understand Luna, never has.
Luna rolls on her side to face her. Her nipple shines pink like a timid gem. "It's okay if you don't understand," she says, and bends to pepper a flurry of kisses on Ginny's stomach.
"Is it really?" Ginny asks, and bites down on a gasp when Luna's cool lips brush over hers.
Luna's face comes up from between her legs, her chin a little shiny. She smiles gently. "No," she says, and shrugs, the movement rolling softly on her shoulders. "But I'm used to it."
Ginny wonders what crushing sadness would feel like, but she can't remember, so she closes her eyes. Enjoy, she tells herself, and does just that.
+