Short n' Sweet, and I'm finally done.
IDK what I think about this chapter. I like it . . . and then I don't.
Eh, well, I've ignored this for so, so long, I just need to post this.
Disclaimer: Neville and Luna belong to JKR. "I Will Always Love You" belongs to Whitney Houston. My cat belongs to me ...? (not that she's mentioned...)
Luna doesn't brush her hair much, really. Her mum used to brush her hair a lot, and she did like it, but Daddy never did, and she got into the habit of not. And no one really cared, because the people that bothered about brushing their hair much bothered about not talking to Loony Lovegood, and the people she did spend time with didn't care.
But today, Luna is brushing her hair. The brush smells like innocence and her mum's old perfume, and while the brush's light pink paint of flaking away, and the bristles are bent, and it's really much to small for a nineteen-year-old hand, Luna can't bring herself to throw it out. Mum used the brush, Luna thinks to herself. And maybe its just Nargles in her brain, but Luna feels that maybe, just maybe, some of mum's magic is left on the brush.
One, two, three strokes. Pause for a knot, go slow, don't pull too hard. Luna hears her mum's voice, feels the yellow robe she wore before bed, smells her sweet honey perfume and lets her soft hands brush Luna's. She's here but she isn't, and that's ok with Luna.
Luna sets down her brush, and glances at her reflection in the mirror. Another first. She usually doesn't care much what she looks like, but if she brushed, she might as well check, she thinks to herself.
Yellow hair, pale cheeks, bright shining eyes that gleam like deep pools, roseblood lips. Luna's face stares back at her, and she brushes hair out her face. What does everyone else see? Same face, same clothes. How do people know who she is? Hardly anyone does. Loony Lovegood to her face, and Loony Lovegood behind her, the two groups of people that she sorts her life into. And then there is Him.
The boy that sees the Yellow hair and the roseblood lips and the dark shining eyes, and sees through them to who she is in her veiny, bloody, gutsy insides. Neville. His name rolls off of Luna's tongue like she's meant to say it, and she agrees that she might be.
Luna looks back at herself, and slips a pink, float-y gown over her body. It kisses her skin with a soft, dry touch, and swishes around her feet like a mini, chartreuse ocean.
Luna leaves her house, as the wind sings a ballad by her window.
A song plays on the muggle radio that Neville once gave her and a static-y voice croons out audio love to 2 million listeners worldwide. " I will always looooooove you," the voice sings.
Luna switches off the radio, and leaves the house. While there may not be a couple million to hear her tonight (in fact, there will only be one), she too has some love to confess to.
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