acidpop25: "A History of Love (In Seven Parts)," PG-13
Title: A History of Love (In Seven Parts)
Author: acidpop25
Rating: PG-13, maybe an extremely soft R
Prompt Set: 100.1
Prompt: #12, "History"
Word Count: 769
Summary: "Boys can be silly sometimes."
Warnings: Some femmeslash.
Notes: Pairings in this one are: Luna/Neville, Luna/Harry, Luna/Draco, Luna/Ginny, Luna/Theodore, Luna/Blaise, and Luna/Padma.
I. Growth
He was never pretty, or handsome exactly, but he had a nice face, I think. He held no secrets, told no lies, or no important ones, which is really all the same. Neville always smelled like wet earth, rich and sweet and clean. Clean even though it's dirt, isn't that a paradox? Maybe not clean, then, but pure. Green, and real, and it reminded me of home, of the smell of the garden, of a few months away from lonely and the leaves of the tomato plants that sporadically bore fat, slightly misshapen fruit. Always tasted good, though.
I kissed him in the greenhouse because Neville understood about lonely, and once after that he called me his moonflower, and I giggled. Boys can be silly sometimes.
II. Ping
Harry had such a pretty smile, but he never gave it to anyone, or not usually. He kept it locked away like a precious thing, too precious to use, even, except one night when he took me riding with him on that fancy broom that people envy. It wasn't comfortable, really, but I liked something about the way it felt, the night wind in my face, cool and stinging as if maybe I'd been hit by a star whizzing past, whoosh. I said so, and Harry laughed, and I didn't see the smile but I felt it, warm, and he steadied me a little with an arm around my waist that made something inside of me go ping. It was a nice feeling.
III. Harp
Falling for Draco wasn't sweet, or tender, or easy, but stopping would have been impossible. So gorgeous and assured and he could make every nerve sing all for him, he could play me like a harp, every muscle pulled taut as the strings, set thrumming at the touch of his fingers. Thin fingers, delicate, with short nails that sometimes bit, just a little, left little reminders of my namesake in my hips or my back. God, I burned, and never like that for anyone else again. Never quite like that.
IV. Intoxication
Ginny had a smile like summer rain and a laugh like hard liquor, straight to your head and makes you forget everything else that probably should or shouldn't be. And poisonous, if you don't watch out. Though at least you wouldn't wonder who you'd shagged; you could never forget her, and you'd never want to. She's heavier than she looks; Ginny's a tiny little spitfire, mostly muscles (muscles and very nice breasts, round and heavy, and they made a comfortable pillow for after). And freckles on her skin like stars, nearly everywhere, except for the hollow spot at the base of her throat, where the skin was perfectly unmarked, peachy-pale, and little drops of sweat would bead like dew and leave me drunk and lightheaded from it all.
V. Alone
Theodore was a lot like me. No mother, no close friends, saw Thestrals. Unlike me, he never seemed to mind being alone; he could even be alone with people, even with me. And he had pretty eyes, big and dark with these long lashes that threw little shadows on his cheeks when he slept, and curly black hair that wound around my fingers like vines. He was velvet-soft, and asked nothing but quiet and solitude, and he always kissed like he meant it.
VI. Dizzy
Blaise danced a very good samba, I don't know if anybody else ever knew that, but he really did. He was fun, that was the best thing about Blaise, he didn't worry about things and he had a wicked grin and clever eyes and once he just spun me around and around and around and around until we both fell on the floor in a heap laughing until our sides hurt and he waited just long enough for the world to finally slow down before pouncing and tickling me and then shagging me right on the thick blue carpet. I always laughed before we fell asleep, with Blaise.
VII. Wrappings
Padma was really every bit as girly as her twin, but she was cleverer about hiding it. She liked to dress up, though. One time she surprised me and wore a sari, a beautiful silky one the colour of butter and edged with gold, and there were gold bracelets up her wrists that made a sound like falling rain, and little brass bells on her ankles that tinkled with each step, and shiny gold eyeshadow, too, all for me, all dressed like summer sunshine so I could learn how a sari wraps.
Or, actually, how it unwraps.
Author: acidpop25
Rating: PG-13, maybe an extremely soft R
Prompt Set: 100.1
Prompt: #12, "History"
Word Count: 769
Summary: "Boys can be silly sometimes."
Warnings: Some femmeslash.
Notes: Pairings in this one are: Luna/Neville, Luna/Harry, Luna/Draco, Luna/Ginny, Luna/Theodore, Luna/Blaise, and Luna/Padma.
I. Growth
He was never pretty, or handsome exactly, but he had a nice face, I think. He held no secrets, told no lies, or no important ones, which is really all the same. Neville always smelled like wet earth, rich and sweet and clean. Clean even though it's dirt, isn't that a paradox? Maybe not clean, then, but pure. Green, and real, and it reminded me of home, of the smell of the garden, of a few months away from lonely and the leaves of the tomato plants that sporadically bore fat, slightly misshapen fruit. Always tasted good, though.
I kissed him in the greenhouse because Neville understood about lonely, and once after that he called me his moonflower, and I giggled. Boys can be silly sometimes.
II. Ping
Harry had such a pretty smile, but he never gave it to anyone, or not usually. He kept it locked away like a precious thing, too precious to use, even, except one night when he took me riding with him on that fancy broom that people envy. It wasn't comfortable, really, but I liked something about the way it felt, the night wind in my face, cool and stinging as if maybe I'd been hit by a star whizzing past, whoosh. I said so, and Harry laughed, and I didn't see the smile but I felt it, warm, and he steadied me a little with an arm around my waist that made something inside of me go ping. It was a nice feeling.
III. Harp
Falling for Draco wasn't sweet, or tender, or easy, but stopping would have been impossible. So gorgeous and assured and he could make every nerve sing all for him, he could play me like a harp, every muscle pulled taut as the strings, set thrumming at the touch of his fingers. Thin fingers, delicate, with short nails that sometimes bit, just a little, left little reminders of my namesake in my hips or my back. God, I burned, and never like that for anyone else again. Never quite like that.
IV. Intoxication
Ginny had a smile like summer rain and a laugh like hard liquor, straight to your head and makes you forget everything else that probably should or shouldn't be. And poisonous, if you don't watch out. Though at least you wouldn't wonder who you'd shagged; you could never forget her, and you'd never want to. She's heavier than she looks; Ginny's a tiny little spitfire, mostly muscles (muscles and very nice breasts, round and heavy, and they made a comfortable pillow for after). And freckles on her skin like stars, nearly everywhere, except for the hollow spot at the base of her throat, where the skin was perfectly unmarked, peachy-pale, and little drops of sweat would bead like dew and leave me drunk and lightheaded from it all.
V. Alone
Theodore was a lot like me. No mother, no close friends, saw Thestrals. Unlike me, he never seemed to mind being alone; he could even be alone with people, even with me. And he had pretty eyes, big and dark with these long lashes that threw little shadows on his cheeks when he slept, and curly black hair that wound around my fingers like vines. He was velvet-soft, and asked nothing but quiet and solitude, and he always kissed like he meant it.
VI. Dizzy
Blaise danced a very good samba, I don't know if anybody else ever knew that, but he really did. He was fun, that was the best thing about Blaise, he didn't worry about things and he had a wicked grin and clever eyes and once he just spun me around and around and around and around until we both fell on the floor in a heap laughing until our sides hurt and he waited just long enough for the world to finally slow down before pouncing and tickling me and then shagging me right on the thick blue carpet. I always laughed before we fell asleep, with Blaise.
VII. Wrappings
Padma was really every bit as girly as her twin, but she was cleverer about hiding it. She liked to dress up, though. One time she surprised me and wore a sari, a beautiful silky one the colour of butter and edged with gold, and there were gold bracelets up her wrists that made a sound like falling rain, and little brass bells on her ankles that tinkled with each step, and shiny gold eyeshadow, too, all for me, all dressed like summer sunshine so I could learn how a sari wraps.
Or, actually, how it unwraps.