Of Life, Love And Weasleys
Chapter Two: Country Heather
Dominique had always loved watching the horizon.
It was where the sea and sky met, where their love story came to a great climax as they finally touched. The sun set and rose over the horizon, a tired red ball slowly sinking through a dark sky or a yawning yellow ball rising through a milky-blue sky.
She had thought, as a little red-headed girl gazing out of her bedroom window at the sunrise, that if she could walk to the horizon, she'd find happiness.
Of course, no one could walk to the horizon, because it continually moved away. It was just the same as no one could find that pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. But to lie on a riverbank and absorb that county feeling was as close as she could ever get to the horizon. She could be away from the traffic and noise and orange streetlight mist of city life. Instead, she could make daisy chains and paddle in an icy-cold stream and soak up the sun in sweet-smelling fields.
Lying with her hair pillowed under her head, she thought over many things. Musing by the river was a favourite weekend pastime of hers. The quiet babble of running water and the chirruping of birds was conductive to relaxation and so allowed the thinker to truly concentrate on the issues bothering them - that was what her yoga instructor had said.
Everything she wondered about was disconnected, her mind often wandering off on a tangent as she was wont to do in conversations. Romance was a big part of it - the reasons behind why she loved Scorpius but was still stirred by Lysander and even Teddy. Her family - why her mother and father were fighting and exactly how her grandparents had managed to have such a long, happy marriage. And herself - why she was never satisfied and always so self-critical and such a coward when it came to feelings.
But, rolling in the heather and watching the bees buzz around her and sometimes landing on her arms in a slim impersonation of her freckles, she could forget it all and just be Nikka, the redhead who loved the country and her family and the smell of the air after it had rained. She could pinch the little flower between green-and-silver polished nails and feel the scratchy stalks pressing into her back and be glad just to be alive.
And she can chase the butterflies and pretend she's free like them and not bound to love one man for her whole life, not bound by the powers of her kind and not bound in her choosing of friends by her family.
Thank you for reading number two of two hundred! Just think, one-hundredth of the way there!
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