Lumiere under the moonlight
There was something about Lumiere at night that made Lune’s head spin. The robust capital of a crumbling nation, in the center of a fraying world, torn apart by grief and fragile hope, seemed different at night. Quieter, serene almost. Almost enough to forget. True, the streets were never quite quiet, or empty, all sorts of scents, melodies, conversations, timid laughter rising in the air. But walking by the pier at night, only lamplight and the fractured moon for company? Well, there was a certain magic to it. Which was ironic coming from her, when her entire world comprised of chroma and proportions and ratios, but this was different, innocent almost, like a long-lost dream of childhood only just pulling at the edges of her consciousness.
Though if she had to be completely honest, she was not entirely alone, in these late-night strolls of hers, had not been in a while, since she had moved out of her parent’s house the walls too high, too stiff, with little more than heartbreak, ambitions and a dream, a purpose. The steady presence walking besides her now, matching her step for step, had been a blessing in disguise back then, even if she had initially thought she’d be nothing but trouble and a distraction from her self-imposed mission. But Sciel had stayed, even when Lune lost herself in her work and became needlessly prickly, she had stayed, even when nights were long and hope seemed farther and farther away with each year that went by. Sciel was a hurricane of a woman and Lune wouldn’t have it any other way.
They had rented a tiny apartment together in a three-story building just at the pier’s edge, the smell of fish never quite fading from their room. She had enough space to work, and keep her research, and her music and Sciel could organize her lesson plans at her leisure, with enough space to cook, and sleep besides. Lune couldn’t ask for more, really.
Like every night before that one, they met after Sciel’s last lesson, a bunch of rowdy teenagers bidding them goodbye, as they took off, walking by the pier hand in hand, with only the moon for company. Only the sky was dark and the moon, new as it was, seemed to be hiding behind the star-strewn clouds, leaving only the soft yellow glow of the streetlamps to lighten the night.
They walked in companionable silence, the rhythmic click clack of their heeled boots against the cobblestone street echoing in the quiet, accompanying the gentle lap of waves against the pier’s edge. A bit too quiet perhaps, even for Lumiere at night, but alas. Lune was content, with Sciel’s hand gripping softly the crook of her elbow, her head resting lightly on her shoulder. Yes, she was content. There was little more she could ask for, in this world, either way.
The silence did not seem to last, for the distant notes of some half-forgotten melody seemed to rise lowly in the air, tugging at something in her chest, both familiar and foreign. It was a bandoneon she knew, not that she had seen any in years, what with Louis long gone in an expedition past, but the melody was unfamiliar. There was just something about it.
Sciel seemed unbothered by the music, content to hum lowly under her breath as they continued on their way, soon coming face to face with the source of the mystifying melody. An old man, foreign and unfamiliar, hunched over his instrument, long coat and a worn casket on his head leaving naught but his gray hair and thick mustache in display. He was settled on an old barrel of some sort, under a low-burning streetlamp just at the edge of the pier, a breath away from the sea. Curioser and curioser.
Sciel tugged at her elbow lightly, and Lune turned to look at her, dark eyes locking with her partner’s mischievous emerald gaze. Sciel merely raised an expectant eyebrow at her, the hint of a smile pulling at the edge of her lips.
“What?” Lune huffed, half a breath, and half a laugh.
A second eyebrow rose, and Sciel nodded toward the old man’s direction, fingers moving deftly across the keys despite their age.
“Shall we?” she prompted and Lune laughed incredulously
“Here? Now?” she asked, the words catching at her throat as Sciel’s hold on her tightened, the gesture reassuring, as it was teasing.
“No moment like the present.” Came the ready reply, but Lune was rooted at the spot thousand and one ways this could go wrong, rushing into her mind. Not to mention the research she had left half finished on her desk.
‘Well come on, live a little!” Sciel insisted tugging her forward, fingers slipping from the crook of her elbow and intertwining with her own, pulling her on the direction of the old man, the melody rising to a small crescendo, as if glad they decided to join.
Lune allowed herself to be pulled and thought she spied the old man smiling at them from beneath the thickness of his moustache.
Sciel laughed at her then as the music picked up and winked, letting Lune’s hand go with a fancy twirl and then another, stepping away with well-timed clicks of her heels against stone as the hem of her skirt rose in tandem with the music. Lune chased after her, fingers barely grasping Sciel’s as the shorter woman spun around her, calling her forward, pulling her in, each step a request, each touch an invite. Who would have known? That for all her “living in a farm”, Sciel had grace and allure aplenty, and a great sense of rhythm besides.
Lune fought the smile pulling at her lips, and taking heed of the melody, she stepped forward, completing her own circle around Sciel’s lovely form, with as much poise as she could master. All those dancing lessons seemed to pay off at least. With a spin and a snap, she stepped forward, intertwining Sciel’s fingers with her own, as the music slowed down, just enough, and they took to swinging softly, Sciel’s arms around her neck, as her own settled against her lover’s waist, the warmth of her sun-kissed skin radiating beneath the fabric.
She breathed in deeply, the scent of roses, and ink flooding her senses, smile pulling at her lips as Sciel positively beamed at her, emerald eyes sparkling with barely concealed mischief and delight.
“Wasn’t so hard now, was it?” she teased, and Lune merely smiled, grasping Sciel’s right hand, and prompting her to turn, once twice, before pulling her flush against her chest once more, breaths mingling, stars twinkling in their eyes. Sciel threw her head back and laughed, as Lune spun them around, the sound untethered and free, rising to the heavens like a secret melody composed anew. And if Lune’s heart skipped a beat, well, only she knew.
And so, they danced and danced, perhaps for minutes or hours, perhaps for lifetimes entire. They’d twist and turn and spin, and hold each other close, in and out, forward and back, rising and falling like the land readily meeting the tide, each step a dare, a challenge, a tease, an unspoken delight. A flourish of a hand here, a tilt of the head there, a calloused hand gripping softly against a shirt clad waist, half lidded eyes and smiling lips teasing at the heat of a kiss freely offered, but never quite given.
Yes, there was something akin to magic in the air, Lune thought, as the music crescendoed once more, and the hem of Sciel’s skirt rose to meet it as she spun, expression free and unburdened, eyes closed, smile as radiant as the slumbering sun. And Lune cared for little else in that moment, blind, and deaf, unseeing and unfeeling, uncaring of everyone and everything but the woman in her arms.
Sciel looked at her and winked then, a teasing smile at her lips even as she slipped from Lune’s grasp, and laughter rose in the air, deep and full-bellied, weightless, joyful, free. Lune startled for a breath, realizing it was her own.
The music swelled once more, and their unlikely companion rose from his seat, as if to accompany them in their unlikely dance, joining in with a nod and a smile.
The old coat fell to the ground, worn casket disappearing to the winds, and Lune realized that the old man, the foreign man, the stranger in a city where everyone knew everyone, was not old at all. He was young, perhaps in his thirties, not that much older than her and Sciel, dark hair wild and untamed, falling into thick unkept curls on his forehead, a smile gracing his features as he danced. The heels of his boots clicked against the cobblestone, and his fingers flew across the keys with mastery, even as he still did not make a sound.
The music slowed then, imperceptibly, and he took to tapping the worn body of his instrument, as if to signal that the song was coming to a close.
Sciel smiled at her then, settling her hands on Lune’s waist and her head on the crook of her neck. Lune smiled softly, wrapping her arms around Sciel, resting her head atop the sunset curls, loose braid half undone as she cradled her close, and they swayed lightly till the music came to a stop.
Lune spared the man a glance then, so different from her first impression of him hunched over the worn instrument, like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. The man smiled at them, and clapped, delighted laughter falling from his lips, and lingering in the corners of his eyes. He looked so alive, in a way few things could be in the small, crooked streets of Lumiere so late at night, mere hours before the next Gommage.
He bowed at them deeply, and Lune reached for her purse, procuring a single coin, clasping it between his hand and hers as he reached for a shake. The man raised his eyebrows, and silently still shook his head, denying the small gift with a wink.
Lune and Sciel shrugged and bid him goodnight, to which he waved them off with a smile and a bow. Lune turned to place the coin back in her purse, only to find not one, but three in its place. Promptly she turned around to correct the man, to give him back the coins he seemed to need more than her or Sciel, much less them both combined, but he was gone.
Nothing left of the man and the bandoneon, the large overcoat or the worn casket. Just a decrepit chair at the pier’s edge.
Sciel looked back at her with a smile, and a question lingering in her eyes, and while Lune’s own mind buzzed with possibilities, she simply shrugged, hooking their elbows together, and picking up the pace, saying not a word about the man’s sudden disappearance. A problem for another day…
She merely hummed to herself, the melody lingering in her ears still, as she tapped her heels twice against the stone, earning a laugh from Sciel and blissfully, a kiss.
Yes, something like magic indeed.
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Sooooo.... the Clair Obscure brainrot is hitting hard. Have some canon compliant Sciel/Lune dancing in the moonlight!!!
See ya in the next one take care!!!
