the world is quiet here. save for the stirring of coffee & the soft patter of rain on the awning, luna seems the only one brave enough to sit outside of the warmth of the coffee shop despite the enchantments that protect from the weather. a quill in hand, she neatly inks out the words to her next article in the quibbler, one might not even recognize her at a glance for the understated robes & lack of babbling on about fantastical creatures--- no she saves those for articles. the only thing that might give her away is the length of pale blonde hair now tied back into a long braid, her wand inexplicably tucked behind her ear for safekeeping, & those protuberant blue eyes that find themselves flicking up at every passing figure. it seems that paranoia will never die, but she finds herself caught somewhere between happiness & regret when she recognizes a face. it’s not that she regrets seeing him in particular, so much as even in these trips to london she often avoids those she knows. she’s not even certain that he’ll remember her considering their differing houses & the fact they’d never spent much time together even in their school years. the name trips off her lips before she can stop it, & while she can hope that he didn’t hear her, even the spoon in her coffee had ceased to move as a result of her thoughts, & a pin dropping could be heard on the near vacant patio.
❝ ...oliver wood? ❞
@spankinggoodkeeper // starter call
