September, 1995
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Pink is the colour of my love's hair, changed to match the hue of the lotus 'blooming' high on the inside of her thigh. If I tilt my head, I can see the tips of the outer petals. Nymphadora is sleeping on her side. Although the henna pattern on her foot is clearly visible, the magical 'vine' that grew and blossomed is not.
I don't need to see the delicate, curving line to picture it at the back of my eyes. After tracing the design with my lips, it is burnt into memory.
Before I met my partner at the club this evening, I felt like a schoolboy nervously wondering how far his date would allow him to go. When I saw her wearing the sexy ribbon dress she wore on our very first date, my feelings changed.
I was a man who wanted to pull his woman into a deserted alley, back her against the brick wall and physically demonstrate how much I had missed her.
The two nights prior to this one numbered among the loneliest of my life. Sirius had viewed them as 'unnecessary deprivation,' but I disagreed. If I had not taken a stand when she went behind my back, it would have encouraged her to do it again whenever she saw fit.
Nymphadora is strong-willed. Along with passion and excitement, she has brought challenge into my life. As a boy, I allowed the strong personalities of my friends to overrule my sense and reason. As a man, I am challenged to hold fast to my convictions when my headstrong love would sweep them away. However fervent her belief in what was best for us, she acted wrongly.
That being said, two nights apart were all I could take. If Nymphadora had not owled me, I would have sent a message to her.
Earlier in the jazz club, when I first noticed that the henna vine was 'growing' up the inside of her leg, I was tantalised. While we danced, I asked how high the vine had grown. When my love whispered that it would bloom with the least little encouragement, I was flattered and aroused.
Now I am saddened that Nymphadora would need magical henna to reassure her of my desire to be together in every way.
Her lotus is pink—a colour my young friend Aashi Patil once said represents a compassionate heart. Sometimes I forget how uncertain my bold love can be. She hides vulnerability with laughing assurance. Conceals fear with bravado.
I will reassure her with words, but first, I notice that my lover's breathing is not as slow and steady as it was a few moments ago. She has likely felt the absence of my warmth and is waking to look for me.
It will be my pleasure to use a spell to begin the 'growth' over again, and re-trace the path of the vine with my lips and hands. This time, I am determined to alter the colour of the lotus to one representing love and passion.
Nymphadora will soon be morphing her hair to a fiery shade of red.
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A/N: Special thanks to remus R us for suggesting I mention the chapter of Moonlight and Shadow that this corresponds to. This entry was 'written' after chapter fourteen. The readers I have to thank for doing me the honour of reviewing last week were... ♥ 40/16 ♥ adrienne06052 ♥ alix33 ♥ BlueSea14 ♥ Calenmarwen ♥ cupcakeswirl ♥ ElspethBates ♥ Embellished ♥ Fauzia ♥ FNP ♥ Freja Lercke-Falkenborg ♥ froggyzrkule ♥ Io.sono.Emilia ♥ ishandtwofourths ♥ Kileaiya ♥ ladyofthebookworms ♥ lauraart123 ♥ LolaCherryColaGirl ♥ MollyCoddles ♥ Moontime ♥ Nethiel Nessime ♥ RahNee ♥ rillie ♥ Shannon ♥ siriuslycoco ♥ Slipknot-3113 ♥ Sophia Loren ♥ sunny9847 ♥ and ♥ UnderworldBabe ♥