you want me to forget you, well forget me too

[Linus Frank Longbottom]

 
Lucy Anne Weasley
  

The folds of his fingers were turning white at their tips. He was gripping the quiv with such intensity (already awkward due to the calloused size of his large, quidditch-worn fingers) and jerking the pad of his thumb over and over across its screen. Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe up and back to the beginning of the conversation, before slower, more meticulous drags downward to reread the exchanges from the majority of the day, as if going over it again and again might change the outcome. Less the outcome, and more his perception of it. Less his perception of it, and more his reaction to it. Which was...not great.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The picture of the letter was taken haphazardly, but one could still zoom in to see its contents. Regardless, she’d know what it was after evening after evening of predicting such an arrival.

omg babe!
chill out and let the other boys have a chance it's only Feb 😉

i’m allowed to be excited luce

ofc
you did good boyf <3

Linus frowned. While still annoyed, the reaction he sought being something more extreme than what he received (albeit unrealistically so for a hext conversation), he hesitated for a moment, the rapid pace of his footsteps slowing, as he considered that he probably should have honored that with a reply. Reading the last message, one that sizzled in its Lucy-ness, he could picture the way her mouth moved as she said it, and hear the inflection of her voice through each syllable. And while he loved it, her voice, hearing it in his head didn’t bring him much comfort. Or rather, the specific brand of comfort that he was looking for.

The comfort he was looking for was definitely more in the realm of the existential finality of their relationship beyond all possible changes. Not that he could possibly have been aware of that.

Approaching the Ravenclaw knocker, he flapped for the inside pocket of his jacket to stow his quiv, unbuttoned and even a little wrinkled, having been so distracted by today’s series of events that he didn’t prepare as best he should. It occurred to him, with that sensation that makes the space just underneath your skin buzz, that he’d shown up empty handed...atypical. Pivoting slightly, with a half glance over his shoulder, he considered a complete retreat, an idea so fleeting it wasn’t properly considered, rudely interrupted by his least-favorite sound of the knocker asking him for an answer.

In the amount of time it would have taken the average ravenclaw to come up with their entry, he’d shuffled again for his quiv and shot off his hext, making his lack of response to her previously look even more damning. But he craned his neck and stretched it, another move indicative of a slow build of defensiveness. A whole vibe of...whatever.

It was only a few minutes before Niko slid out from behind the door. “ ‘s up, Niko”. Though he expected her to give him the bare minimum of her available attention, as usual, she lingered momentarily in the door frame before stepping out of the way, one of her unkempt eyebrows raising in rare opinion. “You look…” He took a step back before she finished her sentence, one she wasn’t going to finish with words and instead with a quiet scoff, and he glanced from her look of judgmental amusement, down to his chest, and back up again. In that time, she was already well on her way down the hallway, one hand raised in passive farewell.

Hand on the edge of the door, each micro-moment of the strangeness of the day accumulated before him, and while he reflected on it enough to be labeled consideration, his lack of solid conclusion sent him through the entrance and up the girls’ stairs two at a time, swatting away each pang of doubt in himself, unknowingly leaving room for only his doubt in her.

[Lucy Anne Weasley]

The emerald satin fell softly through her fingers, as light and as beautiful as she’d hoped it would look since she’d first seen it. Her Mum’s face had split into a wide, happy grin when she saw Lucy eyeing it, and insisted she go try it on. You’ll look gorgeous, she’d said, holding it up and winking when they saw the price tag and they fell about in a fit of giggles. Dad won’t mind, she’d added conspiratorially, and he hadn’t. Dad never minded, not when it was his girls. She’d given him an extra good hug and kiss on his cheek as thanks just in case, but his smile back was as easy as ever.

Green was her colour - or at least, one of them, her mother insisted, as she believed that all colours were Lucy’s colour - but if Lucy were quite truthful with herself, when she saw it all she thought about was that beautiful deep green of his winter scarf, and the glint of his Captain’s badge. She could be just a little indulgent, on Valentine’s Day, she thought. Roxie and Rose would leave it for at least a day before they roasted her for it, and she could let herself be warmed by this fancy of hers.

Yet -

On her bed, her Quiv lay haphazardly, conspicuously dark. It was stupid, she’d been telling herself all day. She always let her brain get away from her before she ever had a chance to stop it wandering, and one unresponded to hext didn’t have to mean anything at all, really, did it? Not when it was today of all days, with his news - the team were probably besides themselves. And there was tonight, anyway, what did it matter if the rest of the day was busy when they already had plans? He was busy, he must be happy, and he knew they were going to be together all night.

She did try to tell herself this.

When Niko stepped out, Lucy allowed herself one last once over in the mirror. She looked good - she felt good, even. The present (okay - present was a stretch, but it was Valentine’s Day and she was feeling herself and Molly had charmed the lines of her new slinky ensemble to be unnoticeable under her slip dress, because Molly was a champion like that, so it was going to be a fun sort of surprise for him, and that counted as a present) was all set, and there wasn’t really much chance of turning back the clock now. Not that she’d want to either - if there was any thing Lucy was quite certain Linus would never be disappointed with, it was looking at her with her kit off.

Valentine’s was their day, and it would be special - like it always was.

At the sound of footsteps up the staircase, she felt the excited lurch in her stomach and skipped to meet him at the door, padding barefoot across the floorboards, loathe to put shoes on before was absolutely necessary. She saw him before she really saw him - Linus was a shape she’d be able to pick out of any crowd, a presence that she’d learned to just sense without even having to try to pinpoint him. “Baby!” she said joyfully, no self-consciousness with no prying ears around, because things were quite normal between them. She picked up her skirts to meet him, instinct propelling herself into his space, and crowding a happy soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Come in,” she murmured, letting her hands snake down to entwine with his. “I’m just finishing getting ready.”

tagged: Linus Frank Longbottom
words: 606
notes: time for hurt!
outfit: link