Author: Bekken
Story: Boy Staring At The Moon
Rating: Everyone
Setting: Pre-OotP
Status: Completed
Reviews: 8
Words: 474
I creep down the stairs, ever so slowly. My nightgown is falling in soft folds around me, and my eyes are wide. The rickety fourth step creaks as I exert pressure on it, and I wince at the noise. I shouldn't be up this late at night; I should be cozily asleep in my bed. But I can't sleep.
My hair is falling around my face, and I haven't anything to tie it back with. Reddish wisps fall into my eyes, making me blink.
My steps are short and measured. I don't want anyone to hear me. My feet barely touch the ground as I tiptoe into the kitchen.
I stop dead in my tracks.
He is sitting on the windowsill. The moonlight is streaming in, and the orb is visible through the panes. The sky is blue, but not quite black. The velvety color makes me want to rush out and rub it against my cheek, though I know it is simply air, and nothing more.
The stars seem to twinkle a little more than usual tonight, bright spots of light, billions of miles away. Each lights up its own special piece of the midnight sky, while the moon hovers like an anxious mother over them all. One star seems particularly cheerful – it looks as if it is winking at me.
My eyes are drawn to him as he runs his fingers through his hair. He seems unaware of my presence. His black-as-night hair is tousled, as always. It's spiking up in various places, as if no one has taken a comb to it in months. His hair is a little longer than it should be – he needs a haircut. Strands curl around the nape of his neck, as if he's trying to grow a ponytail to match my brother's.
The light of the moon illuminates his creamy skin, giving him a ghostly, pale look. Shadows dart over his body as trees outside sway in the wind, blocking the moonlight.
He looks thin, as if he has forgotten to eat this week, though I know for a fact he hasn't.
His clothes hang around him. He tugs at the collar of his enormous sweatshirt. His jeans are so large that they look as if they are in danger of falling off. The bags under his eyes are giving me the impression he's been up all night.
He is staring up at the moon with those huge green eyes of his. They are shining in the light, and glossy with tears. I can read every emotion in the world in his eyes.
Happiness. Hope. Joy. Laughter. Pain. Despair. Depression. Anger.
He is sitting, cross-legged, and looking up at the moon as if trying to find protection and safety…and love.
And so I watch, until I finally break the silence.
The End