Storm
Darkening the sky, the clouds were rolling in. The first raindrop fell into the lake, creating a ripple effect. She slipped off her shoes, slipped out of her robe, and stepped into the cold water. Drip. Another raindrop fell, this time landing on her head. She faced the sky.
The third raindrop fell on his head. The fourth and the fifth fell in his path. The sixth, seventh, and eighth fell hard. The rain fell harder and harder, and he got closer and closer. He stared at her; he was a panther, taking his pick of prey. He already had his pick, and his pick was her.
The rain was coming rapidly now, slightly obscuring his vision of her, but that was okay, as he had her face painted in his mind for the longest time.
She could hear footsteps, but couldn't pick out who he was over the now raging storm. She strained her eyes, but could not identify the figure coming before her. Very odd, she thought, tilting her head and looking at it, very odd indeed.
"What are you doing out here?" His voice was absorbed into a raindrop, and she could not pick out what he had said.
"Huh?"
He got a little closer, she could almost pick out his face, "I said, what are you doing out here?"
"The rain ... it ... washes me free of sadness," She replied, frowning at him. "Why are you out here?"
"Looking for you," he said, dead serious. Her heart picked up pace. Someone was looking for her?
"But why?" She stepped out of the lake, walking toward him.
He met her half way, putting a hand on her lower back. Her skin started to burn where his hand was. She shivered.
"It's cold out here, Luna. Why don't we go inside and warm up?" He suggested, taking her hand tightly.
"No, Neville. I can't."
He stepped closer to her. She didn't step back. "But why, why can't you go inside?"
"Because I ..." she searched for a reason, and stepped closer to him. She stepped so close that their bodies were touching.
He leaned down, and she closed her eyes. He pressed his lips to hers, and she didn't object. Their lips played in a play- act I, scene I. They danced together in a foreign dance, one that is unbeknown to them. Their lips frolicked with eachother, a game of tag. Tag, you're it. It was a competition - a competition to see who would win. Neither would back down.
The kiss was so passionate, the cold from the rain had disappeared. It was so passionate, that Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom were warm and dry, in the cold, wet atmosphere. It was so passionate, that their hearts were pounding against eachother.
It was so passionate, that neither had to say the words, it was just known by eachother,
I love you.
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Quick author's note:
Based on the Kissing In The Rain!!! challenge set by Smile Life Away in the HPFC forum. It was a great idea, and a great story to write, and I rather enjoyed writing a pairing that I didn't usually write. This one is dedicated to you and your brilliant mind.
x, .