word count: 539
Parvati's applying her lipstick before breakfast when she sees it. There, among a sea of hair black as midnight, is a lone silver strand. It shouldn't be a big deal. Padma has several in her hair, and she looks just fine as she sports a natural look.
Except it isn't about looks. Parvati has never been terribly critical of herself in that regard. While she may not be everyone's cup of tea, she's always known she was beautiful.
But that hair, that traitorous strand of silver against black, is a sudden pain in her chest, a rude reminder that the years are passing. She is growing older, and there's no way to make it stop. The world will keep spinning, and she will keep aging. The thought terrifies her more than anything else in the world ever could.
She sets the tube of lipstick down, suddenly no longer wanting to fix her makeup. Heart heavy, she makes her way to the dining room where her wife is sitting, nibbling a scone as she glances over the day's newspaper. Lavender looks up and offers her a warm smile. "I was wondering when you'd finish up," she notes. "I see you finally listened to me and decided to embrace your natural beauty."
Parvati tries to smile, but it feels too forced. Her mind turns to the unknown, to the past, the future, anything and everything but the here and now. Her anxiety must show because Lavender's brows knit together, and her lips twist into a frown.
"What's up, buttercup?"
Parvati's lips twitch, but she still can't bring herself to smile. Not really. "Do you ever wonder what could have been?" she asks before shaking her head because that doesn't quite encompass everything that's on her mind. "Or what will happen? Or… So many unknowns, Lav."
Lavender takes one last bite of her scone, brushing the crumbs from her fingers, and climbs to her feet, closing the distance between her and Parvati. With a laugh, she takes her wife's hands. "So many times," she says, releasing one hand so she can gesture at the scars that mar her face. "Greyback made me think. A lot. Sometimes I still find myself stuck in that mindset."
"What do you do?"
"Remind myself that there's no use worrying. Everything that happened has already happened. What will be, will be," Lavender says. "Worrying isn't going to change that."
Parvati wants to protest, but the words die before they can ever form on the tip of her tongue. Lavender is right. Of course she's right. Parvati has let herself get worked up, and for what?
"You always know what to say," she murmurs.
Lavender presses a quick kiss to her lips before pulling away with a smirk. "Or maybe you're just easy."
"Oi!" Parvati prods a gentle finger against her wife's chest. "I'll remember that next time, Mrs. I Don't Save Any Scones For My Wife."
"What a funny way to pronounce Brown-Patil."
"Watch it, you."
It's so easy to melt when Lavender is around. Suddenly, growing old doesn't seem like such a big deal, nor do any missed opportunities, past or future. She has Lavender and a heart full of love. What more could she want?
