Written for my dearest wifey Joanna, who is fabulous. Happy Birthday, darling!

Also for the Harry Potter Femslash Project.

Also for Amber's Super Insane Prompt Challenge – Cherry.



She is full of fire — all red hair blazing, short-fuse temper, personality like a flame. And you, you are a moth. You cannot help yourself — it's just something about her. She makes you feel… grounded. And weightless. You are a hot air ballon off it's tethers and an old oak tree, roots deep in the ground, and you have never felt like this before.

She treats you like a human being. Not like you're a doormat, not like you're that freaky girl, not like you're made of glass. She doesn't hate you or step on you or humor you. She acts like you matter. Like you have a head on your shoulders that contains a brain that works. But she doesn't pretend to believe everything you say. She debates with you — doesn't reject or accept the possibility, but talks about it rationally.

You may not care if they hate you, dislike you, feel superior to you — but that doesn't mean it doesn't feel good to be respected.

For a very long time, you don't realise that you're in love with her. She's just your best friend. She's the one you look for in the crowds. You smile when you catch sight of that long red hair.

You notice your gaze lingering a little too long. You're thinking about her when you're supposed to be focusing on something else.

And then you start dreaming about her. You start dreaming about red hair and a fire-bright laugh and bite-reddened lips and you understand.

And you are scared. Not because she's a girl — you've never been afraid of being unusual — and not because she's your best friend — you are strong enough to get over this. You are scared because you don't know how to do this. You aren't good at relationships: you don't know how you got her as a friend, not to mention anything more. You don't really get people. They don't make sense to you because, for some reason, no one else seems to think the way you do, like they're operating on an entirely different level that you can't seem to reach — whether that involves ascending or descending, you don't know.

You have absolutely no idea where to go from here.

And you are too afraid of losing her. You are too afraid of falling to try to climb.



She is absolutely insane — but that's not true. Her sanity is quite intact. It's her faith that has problems. She has too much of it, takes too much on faith, believes in anything anyone tells her.

She's so innocent. It makes you smile, makes you want to wrap her up in your arms and shield her from the world. You don't ever want to let them touch her, because all they bring are cruel sneers and words that pierce like knives.

But she is stronger than she looks, and their knives? They don't even mar her pale-pale skin. She looks at you with too-bright eyes and open hands and a world that should have turned her hard as metal her has left her still so naïve and you love that, love her.

You love the way she will dance in thunderstorms. You love the way she cares — too much, you sometimes thinks — about everything, everyone. She loves deeply, fully, and you love that.

You love the way her white-blonde hair falls in front of her too-blue eyes and she smiles, always, as she pushes it back — as though even the annoyance is something to be happy about.

You love that she is so unfazed. So unshakeable. She is perfectly unusual and she wouldn't be Luna any other way.

And you will not be the one to take that away. You will not be the one to mar that pale-pale skin.

And that is why you will never ask for anything more.

You dream of her, dream of those blue eyes watching you as you get closer, dream of kissing those perfect cherry-red lips. You dream of watching the stars with her in your arms, dream of a life with her — not just here, not just now, but forever.

You have so many dreams. But you have so many fears, too. And you will not be the one to break her.

She looks so fragile, and you know that it's just an image, know that she's tougher than she looks, but love, love is different. Love can break even the strongest of people. And you will not risk her. Not for anything.