Luna(tic) (Marauders Era)

36. A Sky in Shades of Orange and Blue

The moon was silent that night. Despite all Luna's hoping, all her praying, all her staring up at a light-washed sky studded with only the most stubborn of stars, the moon did nothing but shine, casting Luna's little corner of the castle in a pale silvery glow until the sunrise broke and flooded the world with color, sapping away the grey shades of the night. And though Luna knew she should move the moment the dawn broke, knew the world would be waking up and the mess she had run from yesterday would be waiting with worried eyes and scowling faces and words she didn't want to hear or speak, she didn't budge.

Instead, she just sat there, still staring out the window, counting the seconds past sunrise. Counting the shades past black as the sky slipped from navy to purple to red to the beginnings of orange. Counting the moments until he came back to her. And each moment was a moment too long.

In the end, it was one thousand six hundred and ninety eight seconds past the first break of day when Luna heard Sam settle down next to her. When she stopped whispering numbers she had hoped wouldn't make it past five.

"You came back," she whispered, closing her eyes on the sky and letting out a breath she felt like she'd been holding for hours. For days. "You came back."

When she opened her eyes and pulled her stare back to the room, to the world, to the one person she wanted to see right now, her gaze was blurry, each blink sending early morning light scattering in fractures across her vision, the tears in her eyes making a kaleidoscope of this cramped little room.

"Of course I-" Sam broke off, frowning as he met Luna's stare, saw the salt water beading in her lashes, read the relief that was washing from the roots of her hair all the way down to her toes, so strong and so thick she thought it might crush her if she wasn't careful. "Luna, are you okay?"

Luna nodded, which felt like a lie, but it didn't matter. Because he was here. He'd come back. And even if yesterday had shattered all the hopes she had had of a new life and a new start, it didn't seem to be such a terrible thing just then. Because Sam was here. And Sam could be enough. He had been before. So she might not be okay just now, with the wounds fresh, but she would be. She had to be.

"You didn't promise," she found herself saying now, justifying herself, her fear, even as she looked away again, not wanting to see the way he was still only half here, only half solid. Only half real. "I asked you to promise. And you didn't." She shook her head at the window, at the world, at the grounds out beyond that she didn't see.

And she remembered their laughter. Remembered their words. Remembered Oh Merlin don't tell me he's dead and what's wrong with Lulu and Lunatic. Remembered all the ways they'd been right and those right things she'd been running from and why just now, running, even if it made the air burn in her lungs with each breath, felt better than standing still and waiting to hear those words again. Those truths again.

"I'll drop it all," she whispered out the window, eyes still unseeing even as the words left her heart shrivelling, fear coiling in her stomach and around her throat, strangling her. Even as another truth burrowed into her chest and stuck there: the simple, painful, undeniable conviction that she didn't want to drop it all. And that knowledge stung, boiling and burning where it found itself in contact with the conviction that she would do it anyway.

Because she would. If Sam asked, she would. And she needed him to know it, needed him to understand. Needed him to ask.

So even though her chest ached, even though the words tasted like fire and fear coming out of her mouth, she pressed on. "I'll leave it all behind," she repeated. "If it's you or them, Sam, I choose you. In a heartbeat. They can rot if it makes sure you stay."