on Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Fleur stands by the window; a hand resting lightly against the window pain as she watches the approaching evening, taking away the yellows, oranges, reds and pinks in the sky.

Slowly but surely, it appears – one beautiful full moon.

She sighs, lowering her eyes until her gaze falls on him, watching as he sits outside on the soft sand and gazes up at the moon.

Bill will never be a werewolf.

But he will always be drawn to the moon from now on.

Fleur sighs once again, grabbing a nearby blanket, and joins her husband out under the pale moonlight.

image credits to other-wordly @ Tumblr


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