isthisselfcare

It was Samhain night. The veil between worlds grew thin. Tonight, terrible incompatibilities mattered less. Violent polarities softened. Universes could collide and pass through one another, the stars of one lingering lovingly in the light of the other.

Perhaps there was a place for them to meet in the in-between.

After all, fire loves her darkness. After all, the sinner loves his angel. Autumn, laughing, dances her leaves into the high skies of her winter. The moon spins in gyre after gyre, chasing his beloved sun.

What cared they about universes colliding? Let them collide. Let their joined heartbeats cleave constellations and startle the eternal stars.

They hung there in that place of equilibrium, between the known and the unknown, between the never and the not yet.

'Reading by the fire when it’s raining is the closest thing we have to a cure for the human condition.'

Granger said, 'Beautiful,' and Draco said, 'Yes,' but they were not talking about the same thing.