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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