the moon [h.s.] - EDITING

sixteen.

Harry and Zavier are left in the kitchen together. They both watched Luna walk out and confusion was in the air.

"Um, I think-" Harry looks at Zavier.

His best friend, ex-best friend, nods. "Go... Something's wrong."

Harry puts the flipper down. He locks eyes with Zavier's hazel ones then nods back. He backs out of the kitchen then walks towards the door. His blazer still lays on the floor of Luna's bedroom, but he leaves without it. No matter how cold the temperature might be in the city. He goes to find Luna.

He misses her in the lift. She must already be down so he takes a few flights of stairs down.

The air hits cold the moment he's outside. He ignores it and looks both ways. Luckily, he finds her dark brown pinned-up hair crossing the street.

He doesn't take the crosswalk with her or the many tourists. He cuts through the ongoing traffic like a real New Yorker. "Luna, wait!" He calls out again. He's jogging now and she's heading down the stairs to a subway entrance. He follows her.

"Luna," he reaches for her arm when he finally reaches her.

She looks frustrated. She sighs and turns to him with her hands deep into the pockets of her bomber jacket. "Harry, I want to be alone."

"Why? Is it the picture? Why did you walk out?" He asks.

There's so much noise. They are underground and everything just sounds louder. Luna takes her hand out of her pocket to put a hand on top of her head. "Can you not do this right now?"

"Luna, talk to me," he says. He puts a hand on her waist, but Luna steps away from his touch. It's hard for Harry not to take it personally. He puts his hands down to his sides to surrender.

"It's just... You said pictures would be deleted."

Harry still doesn't understand. "It's just a picture," he tries to talk.

"No! It's not. Harry, you don't get it," she says.

"Then explain it, please."

Her bottom lip quivers. She looks away. "I left Iowa for a reason. I left my family for a reason. If they were ever to see me in that picture-" she stops and now she's cursing at herself. She doesn't want to cry.

Harry steps closer. "Luna, I'm sorry..." he tells her. "I didn't know." He tries to hold her. He just knows she wants to be held. She's only mentioned her family once, he remembers. She has a brother and he's fifteen. That's all he knows.

She fights it. "And you don't get to know. You don't get to know more. I knew I shouldn't have gone..." she says with teary eyes. "The moment Madison said you used to take Kristen to those kinds of things... I should've stayed home. Last night was a mistake. Also, I'm not her, you get that? I won't ever be her. Stop wasting your time and go home, please."

Harry is taken back from her words. She's hurting from whatever her reason for leaving home is, Harry knows that, but her words still hurt. He heaves a sigh and doesn't look into those brown eyes anymore. Maybe he should go home. "Don't forget, I need those clothes back," he tells her. "And no, you won't ever be her. I know that." 

He takes a few steps back then turns around when Luna doesn't say anything. He's walking up the steps leading back to the city ground as he leaves her behind. He runs his fingers through his messy hair and walks home. The people he walks past all just stare.

»»

He arrives at his flat. He curses as the warm temperature in the flat makes his body feel fuzzy. His cold arms are finally warming up.

"Well, well, well, where have you been?" Levi asks. He's enjoying his lazy Sunday on the couch already.

He doesn't want to talk about it. "I'll be in my room," he tells his flatmate. He walks to his bedroom and shuts the door behind him. Her words are replaying in his head.

He's tired. He's tired of hearing the name Kristen. He's tired of remembering what she did to him. He's especially tired of people assuming Kristen is the reason behind any decision he makes.

He should call Kristen.

Harry lays flat on his back on the bed. He lifts up his phone and is looking through his contact list. There she is. She still holds the same contact name "K". Her hair looks red in the picture because of the sun. She's smiling because Harry had told her he loved her just seconds before. She threw everything away and he just let her.

Maybe he could've tried harder. They could've worked through it. Or not. Something told him she was never ready to get married or start a family. She said she was, but he was never really sure. She was thriving with her job. She's probably thriving even more now that she's not with him. He hates it. He knows it's selfish of him to.

He doesn't call her, but he doesn't delete her number either. He just lays there after locking his phone and throwing it to the side. 

Harry's not sure what he wants. All he knows is he had a complicated, yet such a good night with Luna. He would want to do it all again, but what if she doesn't? Something about the thought of Luna not wanting anything to do with him leaves him feeling sad all over again.