Reader x Neville Longbottom except the reader is a muggle behind a screen. Prose poetry (not a story) that would make him blush to death. Written by a girl who clearly doesn't touch grass (unlike him). (I write for him & my delusions)
Story playlist...
I've always loved rain, the smell, pearling tears, leaves heavy, moist corners, the cold tapperings on the neck, the fluffed-up hair, the snails that come out, especially at night, and that I'd always accidentally crush the shell of with my shoes. You were more careful. Like cyanure: a crush of instant death.
Summer rain is almost better, because the cold wet feels like a godly touch, and I'd gladly stick my toes in the mushy sogged grass, or roll in it until my arms were decorated with sticky grass.
And when I see the pearls of water collide on your face I feel them like mine, the abyss of sensations that two friends can feel with a stare.
I've always loved the cold. It's healing, magical, like a cold searching palm, cold feet under a blanket, or when you clasped your hands to the windows as a child when it rained outside. Or simply the 5,000 stone cold walls that wrap the castle, and the dusted stone slabs on the ground. I would sit and relish in it's touch if I could, just sat against the cold hard ground. Just to lean on an archway, the stone cold on neck and thighs. I'd love to just fall and break my fucking limbs, to scratch all my skin till burn on the Quidditch pitch.
I'd love to hear the sounds the greenhouses makes when it rains, especially when it's pouring, like being under a river, plants squirming with tickled joy as dropplets trail unto their soil. I'd love to feel your palms when they're cold and moist after you just escaped the storm, uniform soaked, and when specks of earth stick to them. You accidentally kicked off a pot with your knee and the earth spilled all over your lap and leg. An easy fix for a wizard, earth suspended in air like a terrible accident frozen in time.
I'm jealous of the droplets that fall on your cheeks and puddle up in your eye-sockets. My touch will never feel as good as Nature's.
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