Luna and the Moon [H.S]

65: talk to me.

* POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING * 
** I am not romanticising or glamourising abuse in anyway, and if you or somebody you know is suffering at the hands of abuse, SPEAK UP!!
*** wasn't going to update, but I had written this chapter in just over an hour and a half, and I'm so happy with it I couldn't wait any longer to publish it.

In less than twenty minutes I was outside my home, the living room light was on and the curtains were partially shut. Either my sister or my mother were sleeping downstairs, or Luna couldn't bare to go to our room without me there. I exited the car, locking it behind me before fumbling with my keys in search of the house key, I was quite excited to go in and just hold Luna again. When you live with somebody and spend almost a night apart after such a fight, you can't help but miss the simplicity of their touch and their presence.

I pushed open the door, quietly closing it behind me. Something thudded quietly in the living room, making me immediately walk towards the noise. There stood Luna, dark bags under her eyes and hands shaking as she held up the empty vase that once rested on the coffee table.

"Put that damn thing down, it's just me," I gasped when she lifted her arm to throw it.

She almost dropped the glass vase from her shaky fingers, shoving it to the soft sofa and hurriedly making her way towards me. A beautiful smile on her face, a few stray tears cascading from her eyes as she threw her arms around my neck. I held her onto my body, inhaling her scent as if I hadn't seen her for months.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't going to hurt you! I thought you were a burglar," she chuckled embarrassingly into my neck. She sniffed as I pulled away, my fingers brushing over her cheek as I pushed some of the loose short brown strands behind her ear. I smiled, it was small but it was there, I guided her over to the sofa once more. I saw the empty pizza boxes on the coffee table, I'm surprised she didn't distract herself by cooking last night, but it probably didn't feel right. It was currently near two AM, I wish it could've been morning time that way we could hold off the inevitable conversation until my family left. "Are we going to talk now?"

"Yeah," I breathed. I didn't know where to start, nor what I was supposed to say. Do I mention the wedding dress, do I bring up the fact Luna doesn't want to wait anymore, do I mention Kate, do I bring up my discomfort of mentioning my mother to Luna, or do I mention the flinching situation. In fact, I needed to mention every single one of those topics. In what order, I'm not sure. "I'm not sure where to begin..." I mumbled, trailing off as I looked at my fingertips. My long sleeved black jumper was extremely long on me, the cuffs covering my red knuckles.

"I need you to talk to me," Luna sighed. "Why don't we start from the beginning. My mother," she began, shifting on the seat so she could face me with her legs crossed on the couch. I remained facing the table, if I look at her I'll either shut her out again or I'll flee back to Liam's house. "Why does talking about your mother to me, make you uncomfortable?"

"Because your mum isn't here anymore. Don't think you can't talk about yours to me because I'll always be there to comfort you, and you can treat my mum like she's yours I'm sorry if I seemed like you couldn't. It just makes me feel so guilty and selfish that I have my mum still alive and so close to me, yet I complain almost daily, that I don't see her often. That's what makes me feel guilty and selfish, because unlike you, I can still see my mum. I shouldn't complain, I'm lucky."

When I look at her she's wearing a sad smile, like my words pained her yet she found it oddly sweet of me to care so much about her feelings. "You're such an idiot you know that right?" She shuffled closer so that her crossed legs were on either of my slim waist as I remained facing forward. Her shins pressed against my hip. "You shouldn't feel guilty or selfish, I don't ever feel mad at you for talking about missing your mother. Regardless if she's four hours from London or just upstairs, you can miss her and you can tell me that you miss her. Sure my mothers not here anymore, but the time I got with her I'll always cherish. I don't want you feeling like you have to walk on eggshells when bringing up your parents to me. Please, don't feel that way."