the possibiltity of love
( luna/rolf )
i do not own harry potter.
he doesn't know if he loves her, exactly.
but he knows that he loves the way her hair falls carelessly around her shoulders like a butterscotch waterfall, the way she twirls around the common room at midnight when she thinks no-one's watching, the way her imperfect nerine lips curve upwards into that perfect half-smile, the way her eyes stare off into the distance – into a faraway dreamworld of beauty that only she can see.
( he wants to be part of that world. )
he wants to wake up every day and see the beauty that only she seems to see. he wants to be able to run his fingers through her butterscotch waves, to gaze into her ohsolovely blue-grey eyes for ever and ever. he wants to be the one who twirls her around the room; he wants to touch her imperfect lips with his, and make it curve into that perfect smile.
he doesn't know if he loves her, exactly – but he knows that he could, and that's all that matters.
but she's luna lovegood, baby, and she's as unattainable as the stars.
...
right ?
( wrong . )