Light marked a path across the wall, everything silver-soft and strange. The room was quiet, but Greg couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t the moonlight, or a dream, or anything else he could put his finger on. He just couldn’t get to sleep.
Greg sat up, and looked down at Luna, curled up next to him. He couldn’t see her face, but he could see the rise and fall of her steady breathing. He could hear it, along with the rustles he made as he tried to get comfortable. She was everything he loved about her in that moment: vulnerable, strong, comfortable with herself and yet still with one arm flung out, taking her own path.
He watched her for a moment more, warmth flooding his chest and a smile on his face, and then he reached out for his notebook and pencil.
It was a Muggle pencil, a mechanical one, and it was far more sensible for these middle-of-the-night moments than any quill. His notebook was also Muggle, but the light that Greg set hovering above the page was pure magic.
Sitting back, Greg looked once more to the wall, and then to the window lying across Luna’s side of the room. By unspoken agreement they slept with the curtains wide open (and in the summer, the windows too). They both liked to sleep and rise with the sun, and with the birds that filled the trees in the gardens below. For now, all was quiet, but the moon was bright in the sky, its edge just visible at the corner of the window.
After a moment, the words came, and he wrote.
Silver-bright A night-time wonder
You move with steady stealth Life reflected in your eyes In your arms In the gentleness of your breath
As you glide through darkness As you smile at the world
I hear your voice in the wind The trees The birds
I hear your voice in the dark In the whispers of the night
I hear a word
Love.
Greg marked the end of his poem, and his hand fell to his side. He read through the words, and nodded. He put his notebook and pencil back on the side, extinguished the light, and lay back down again in bed. Carefully, Greg wrapped an arm around Luna, her warmth drawing him closer. She sighed in her sleep and wriggled until they fit together perfectly.
Within two minutes, Greg was asleep, his heavy breaths along with Luna’s light ones the only sound in the moonlit room.
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Here you are. :)
Light marked a path across the wall, everything silver-soft and strange. The room was quiet, but Greg couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t the moonlight, or a dream, or anything else he could put his finger on. He just couldn’t get to sleep.
Greg sat up, and looked down at Luna, curled up next to him. He couldn’t see her face, but he could see the rise and fall of her steady breathing. He could hear it, along with the rustles he made as he tried to get comfortable. She was everything he loved about her in that moment: vulnerable, strong, comfortable with herself and yet still with one arm flung out, taking her own path.
He watched her for a moment more, warmth flooding his chest and a smile on his face, and then he reached out for his notebook and pencil.
It was a Muggle pencil, a mechanical one, and it was far more sensible for these middle-of-the-night moments than any quill. His notebook was also Muggle, but the light that Greg set hovering above the page was pure magic.
Sitting back, Greg looked once more to the wall, and then to the window lying across Luna’s side of the room. By unspoken agreement they slept with the curtains wide open (and in the summer, the windows too). They both liked to sleep and rise with the sun, and with the birds that filled the trees in the gardens below. For now, all was quiet, but the moon was bright in the sky, its edge just visible at the corner of the window.
After a moment, the words came, and he wrote.
Silver-bright
A night-time wonder
You move with steady stealth
Life reflected in your eyes
In your arms
In the gentleness of your breath
As you glide through darkness
As you smile at the world
I hear your voice in the wind
The trees
The birds
I hear your voice in the dark
In the whispers of the night
I hear a word
Love.
Greg marked the end of his poem, and his hand fell to his side. He read through the words, and nodded. He put his notebook and pencil back on the side, extinguished the light, and lay back down again in bed. Carefully, Greg wrapped an arm around Luna, her warmth drawing him closer. She sighed in her sleep and wriggled until they fit together perfectly.
Within two minutes, Greg was asleep, his heavy breaths along with Luna’s light ones the only sound in the moonlit room.