In Stagnant Happiness PV Astrea

private thread with @Willow Anderson

I am half-afraid to hope,

Let it be known that, while Astrea had always held house and team allegiance to her rightful house out of duty, her heart’s allegiance found itself pledged to a softer affection. Astrea’s perspective on relationships and romance was based entirely on her readings of long past, traversing through the plots of fantastically tragic narratives and the limited information gathered from those around her. Her own parents had waltzed their way towards courtship and engagement very traditionally, drawing upon a mix of occasionally conflicting rules of etiquette for years before they married- or so she had gathered from the house-elves and former servants of the house. Of course, Astrea's own relationship with Willow was far from traditional, but the spirit of the Slytherin's upbringing steered her behaviour like any other aspect in life.

Despite the official nature of their relationship (and much to Astrea's eternal disappointment), conflicting time schedules and social circles meant their already limited overlapping free time to which the two could properly interact regularly was fleeting. Bound by unenforced propriety and her own inability, Astrea more often found herself stealing glances and silently collecting bits of information than anything else, preferring to tirelessly pen letters of her heart's allegiance than verbally expressing her thoughts towards the badger.

As difficult as it were, there were some golden days in which they had the privilege to share in each other's rare presence, Astrea left revolving as if drawn by some magnetic force. Circle she did, ever at a distance, emotionally if not physically. This fine mid-January day found the two curled up on one of the library's couches, making the most of their precious time in each other's presence. The sound of other students studying further into the expansive room seemed to fade into nothing more than a murmur as the two sat in front of the crackling fireplace, quiet but for the shuffle of pages but yet not entirely content. Willow, a steady weight pillowed against her thigh, seemed troubled as of late. It truly was a disconcerting thing to see the ever-passionate Hufflepuff so brooding. Astrea alone was typically the victim of such melancholy, but, as she gently fiddled between fine locks of silk gold, she supposed that even the badger had off-days in which nothing felt quite settled.

The fourth-year's distracted analysis of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection was momentarily halted by her girlfriend's sudden question, hand stilling from its path through flaxen hair. Suddenly, Astrea had the entirety of Willow's attention peering up at her, Pandora's lid of the other's worries left open for the taking.

Oh, those eyes of desperate blue, a portion of the heavens itself and all of its free-flying inhabitants, seeking the Slytherin’s thoughts on matters that had so troubled her for all her life- far more than she would ever admit. What earnestness her partner seemed to carry, bound with an earthliness entirely unmatched and yet seemingly unfazed by the melancholic rivers of useless contemplation as Astrea found herself trapped within. A sense of sudden internal conflict reared its ugly head as the urge to admit, shamefully but without hesitation, even a portion of the magnitude of her own feelings. The prospect, left unvoiced and caught between her teeth, was so tempting and yet Astrea could not bring herself to say anything. The ability to connect with and potentially comfort those around her, especially those of which who had taken a rare place within her consciousness, was something she had always lacked, no matter how many months she and Willow had been together.

She opted instead for the safest way forward in simply addressing Willow's concerns, unwilling to sacrifice the attention away from her distressed girlfriend to attempt relating her own woes. "It does. Though, must one be so complete now?" They were young still, ever in flux, and if needing to completely understand oneself at this moment was a need, then it would be best for all involved not to count the long stretches Astrea had been lacking. "If you so wish," She took a pause as she placed a bookmark within the book she had been feigning interest in, closing it with an uncharacteristic hesitance that always seemed to afflict her with every second spent and spoken to her dear partner. "You have my support-" In truth, Willow had always held Astrea's support in the palm of her hand, kindled somewhere between flower language and sleepless contemplation.

Who was Astrea to weigh down such a force of nature, to stall the embodiment of colourful unpredictability within the Slytherin's routine-heavy life? "To help you seek these 'missing pieces'." Astrea's gentle offer of aid seemed pitiful in comparison to the fount of heaven's favour offered by Willow's mere presence, but there was little else for her to do in soothing the uneasy sting of future self-exploration than to continue her silent steady vigil, hoping for the best all the while.

To love what I long for.

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