Beneath A Moonless Sky, There Are Twinkling Stars
A/N: Hey, guys! I'VE BEEN EXTREMELY BUSY! I had my audition for a musical this week, and finishing up one part of my Social Studies Exam, finishing my English, and prepping for Band, Math and the other part of my Social Studies Exam. Until I can get properly back on my feet, (meaning, when exams are over and I see if I get the part of Joanie Cunningham), here's a long one shot to occupy!
It was about 12 in the afternoon, in London, when I met you for the first time.
This was just after I moved out of my Gran's apartment, where I lived all my of life until I finished school. Fours years of university, and a Bachelor of Science degree in Botany, at the Uni of London. Gran thought I should be a successful policeman, like my parents, but I didn't want the action, the thrill of catching crime in London. I just wanted to have a simple life, with my plants, my Gran, my friends and maybe, a girl. That was all I really wanted. I didn't want to be famous, or well-known, I just wanted to be happy. For most of my life, three quarters of that wish was filled. I had my Gran, (and it seemed I could never get rid of her), my plants, and my friends at school. But for the most part, I didn't expect to find someone who could love me as I am. I mean, I'm not the most confident man in London, like that Malfoy bloke back in primary school. I have sort of mousy brown hair, bucked teeth, and I like sweaters over vest tops. Basically, I didn't expect any girl to want me like I wanted her. Sure, there have been a few in school, like Hannah Abbot, or Ginevra Weasley, but none of them could turn my stomach and make me fall head over heels, then you, Luna Lovegood.
Luna. It was a rather pretty name when I first met you. You were walking into the nursery, wearing wide pink sunglasses. An odd choice. Blue jean overalls, an eye-catching lavender t-shirt and no shoes. You carried a shoulder bag, and there was a big, floppy hat on your blonde hair, which was braided down your back. A big, yellow sunflower decorated that hat. Walking into the nursery, I had been planting some petunias that just came in, and when I first saw you coming over, I panicked. I really did. I fumbled with the dirt, clawing at it desperately so I could look you in the eyes when you came over. Dirt was all over when I finally planted the petunia into the soil, and met your eyes. You had taken your sunglasses off your face, and I was met with the oddest, but clearest blue eyes I have ever seen.
You asked me if there were any particularly odd plants in the nursery, as you were looking for a gift for your father. I, nodding and mumbling like an idiot, directed you over to the Venus Flytrap, next to the daisies. It had just come in with the Acer Palmatum Atropurpureum, and so far, everybody who passed it grew weary of the fangs. You watched with fascination, as a fly lazily flew near the plant, and rested in its jaws. And you jumped, and I could remember the surprise in your face, as the jaws of the Flytrap shut, trapping and eating the fly. After looking at it for a moment, you nodded and said it was perfect, saying you had needed a plant for your father. With shaking hands, I helped you carry it to the register, all the things I wanted to say, I couldn't say. You were just so odd, and eccentric, but so memorable at the same time. When you pulled out a leather pouch to pay for the plants, I blurted out my name.
"Is that your name?" you had asked, and I scratched the back of my neck, knowing my name could easily drive you away. No one really took the name Neville Longbottom seriously. The nursery manager nearly lost it when I showed her my application. But you didn't laugh. You only smiled, and said it was a lovely and original name. Then you offered your hand and said your name. "Luna Lovegood." Oh, how it had amazed me how we both had odd names, and odd lives. Shaking it, I asked if you wanted to meet up sometime, my voice trembling and my hands sweating madly. With a graceful nod, you had agreed, and we set a time and date.
I couldn't stop thinking about you for the next three days, as we had set our date, three days from our meeting. What would I say? What could I do? I didn't have a clue what to say to a girl like you. I already knew, right off the bat, just looking at you, you weren't like other girls I had fancied. No, there was something different about you. Just, something amazing. I fretted for the next three days, watching the telly, scouring for movies about romantic couples, and TV shows. Watching how the man treated the lady, observing. I even had the nerve to look up advice on the internet, trying to find ways to please you. Only then, three days later, did I realize that nothing I could ever find, would prepare me for you.
I waited that day. It was Saturday, June 14th, 2014. You had recommended a lovely place called Foxcroft and Ginger, in Soho. I had to take about two cabbies to get there, but I was pleased to discover it was a rather cheap restaurant. Entering the restaurant, I took a seat and looked at the menu, wondering what sort of pizza I could get. You were a good ten minutes late, but it was no wonder why, when you came in, soaked, and having to shake your umbrella to get rid of the excess moisture. I had escaped the rain by a cabbie, and pulling my coat over my head, but that wasn't an option for you. You were dressed in a shiny, pink raincoat, your hair tied in a huge bun on top of your head. I had stumbled, standing up from my seat and rushing to your side, asking if you'd like a seat. Pulling out a chair for you, you took a seat gracefully, pulling off your raincoat to reveal a bright blue seater, and a pair of silver tights. You no longer wore any type of glasses, leaving me to revel in the beauty of your crystal eyes.
Sharing a sourdough pizza, we talked for hours on end, about our lives. I discovered you were studying to go abroad, in Africa, to find new animal species and train with them. Your father sounded a bit odd, but he was the owner of a small newspaper company that I've only heard of. You spent three years in Uni, and are currently doing your fourth, and that you have no brothers or sisters. You were 22 years old, and I was 23. You were delighted when I told you I spent the last four years in Botany at Uni, and you told me you would've been in that course if you hadn't loved animals so much. We ended up talking about our lives, the universe, and everything odd in between, and I couldn't help but fall and stumble in love that night. Clinking two glasses of wine, we had drank to our health, and when we removed the glasses, there was a bit of red staining your pink lips. It made me want to kiss them even more. But Gran had taught me that women should only be kissed if they asked to be kissed, so after that, we shared a cab back to our respective living spaces, which weren't so far apart, and bid each other goodnight. Oh, what a good night it had been.
We continued to see each other following that date. Odd visits at the market, meet ups at work, and even the occasional date where we'd continue to visit the odd, and unique. Sometimes, I'd come by your apartment and help you out, as you had just moved in as well. Carrying boxes up those stairs, I remember your smile as I nearly dropped your box of books down the stairs, and the nasty look the landlady gave me. Your apartment was a pale blue, and when I look back on that day, your eyes were too. Not shining, like the days before, but a bit greyer, a bit darker. You had put up walls against me. I didn't want to break them, but gently stretch my hand across them, so you could tell me. I didn't want to break the delicate friendship we already had. The next time I came around, about a month or two later after our first date, and the sixth or seventh time we've met up, I was carrying a bouquet of sunflowers. I had offered them to you without a word, too afraid my words would screw this up. Instead, you took them from my hands, and seeing the way your eyes lit up, you threw your arms around me, encasing me in your embrace. I, only being human, had warily placed my arms around you, absolutely pleased with how this had ended.
Your walls went down, and it was another marvelous day. We had visited Picadelly Circus together, seeing the tourists and the citizens gather in this area. That day, you wore a bright yellow sundress, as it was an unusually warm day. After Picadelly, you had decreed we would have a picnic in the nearby park, and who was I to say no? Purchasing some food from a nearby supermarket, we sat on the grass, using a blanket you kept in your shoulder bag. We laid back on the ground, staring at the sky. You pointed out strange animals in the clouds, and I remember looking into the sky, wondering if my parents were watching us right now. They must've been. Dazing off, we accidentally fell asleep there together, having become too peaceful in our positions. When I woke, it was almost eight o' clock of the evening. But when I stumbled to sit up, I found you had placed your head on my shoulder, your eyes closed, and your breathing soft. I couldn't help but smile, and brush aside a lock of your blonde hair, and simply let you sleep, until you you woke, you were blushing, but you didn't say a word. We held hands under the stars, simply silent, as we stared at a moonless, but shining sky. You held my hand, and without a word, slowly leaned in and pressed your lips to mine. That was my first kiss in my entire life. I, fumbling at first, slowly eased into the act, kissing softly. I was in heaven. And I was so glad, the first kiss was you.
After coming home together in the same cabbie, we had decided it would be easier if you took a cab back to your apartment later, as it was too dark to even consider walking back home. Even though my apartment was small, you said it would suffice. Both of us collapsed on the couch in each other's arms, my arms securely around you, never wanting to let go. For the first time in ages, I was in love, and I hadn't said a word at all. It was the best feeling to fall asleep holding you, but to find, in the morning, you were gone, my world turned immediately dark. In your place, I found a note, and reading your scrawled writing, it had broken my heart.
In the letter, it read that the reason you had turned your walls up against me, and why you were so sad this morning, is because today was the day you had your flight to an area in South Africa. You didn't want to tell me, and the day I helped you move in, that was why you put your walls against me. Cause you were afraid I wouldn't want to see you again, and that our time together was the last good days before you left. You wrote that you loved me, that you loved me, you loved me, you loved me. But you couldn't have loved me enough, if you were determined to leave me here with a broken heart. You were going to be gone for eight years. And now, I was alone as could be. Just as it was before.
I continued my work, moving up the ranks in the plant nursery, but no girl after you would ever be the same. Sure, there was the occasional night fling, but there was never the magic that you had given me, the happiness and the uniquity you posessed, Luna. Why didn't you tell me? Why couldn't you have broken my heart sooner? If I had known that would be the last good day with you, I would've given you the entire world. I had only given you a quarter of it. Now, you were a world away. Every night, I would look into the sky, seeing the moon shining brightly above me, twinkling stars around it.
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
How I wonder what you are.
What does make the stars twinkle, Luna? Why did they have to twinkle and shine when you were gone? Every night following your leaving, was a moonless sky. I always remembered that your name meant the moon, as my Gran had taught me a bit of latin. I always found the moon beautiful, and whenever I looked up at it, I hope you're looking at the same moon. I hope you know that I'm still waiting, and I hope you know that I still love you. I'm still waiting, and this is a rather moonless life without you. I walk under a moonless sky, and the stars are still twinkling. How dare they, that they shine when you aren't there. How dare they, that they don't wonder why you're gone. I miss you still, and I always will. Maybe this was never meant to be, but I will always miss you, Luna Lovegood.
It's been eight years since you've been gone. Life is dull, and too long to even bear, but I continue on. June 15th, 2022. About 11 in the morning. I'm fixing myself a cup of nearly tasteless coffee, when there's a knock at my door. Walking over to the door, I slowly open it, to find your pale, and lined face. You smile wearily and say my name. The mug in my hands fall to the floor, crashing against the wooden flooring, and only in my blue robe, do I wrap my arms around your pale stature, and hold you close, tears falling down my face. You're here. You don't let go for a long time, and when you do, you tell me you love me. And I repeat it. I don't forget the heartbreak, and I don't forget that you've left me, but none of that matters now. All that does, is that you're here.
As you walk down the aisle, you're as radiant and as unique as could be. Our friends and family have gathered for this small occasion, but to me, it's the festivity of festivities. La creme du la creme, if you would like. I adjust my tie, and look towards your father, who smiles at me in return. I'm so nervous, so anxious, that this was the wrong choice, that you might leave me again, that this was never meant to be. But I had perservered for eight years, and if this wasn't the ending we were meant for, what good was a happy ending? If God pulled me aside right now and told me loving you was a sin, I could fall into hell with ease, as long as you were in my arms. You are as gorgeous and as amazing as we first met, dressed in a white gown, a beautiful sunflower adorning your hair. Your eyes are the brightest they've ever been, the scars of the past completely healed. When you finally reach me, I take your hands, looking into your eyes of blue, take a deep breath.
And whisper I do.