"I just think it's statistically improbable that you don't have a type," Sirius said, dangling his legs over the armrest of the sofa and tossing a crumpled piece of parchment into the fire.
"I don't," Remus said calmly, not looking up from his book.
"Everyone has a type! James likes people who hate him. Pete likes anyone who gives him the time of day. I like..." Sirius waved a hand vaguely. "Well. Anyway. What's yours?"
Remus sighed, finally marking his page and looking up. "Fine. Dark hair. Ridiculously dramatic. Comes with a truly terrifying amount of family trauma."
Sirius went completely still. Remus’s stomach dropped as he watched the gears turn in Sirius's head. What the fuck had he done. Remus stopped breathing, bracing for the worst as Sirius leaned across the sofa, his eyes wide and horrified.
"Merlin," Sirius breathed. "You're in love with Snape."
Remus stared at him for five long, agonizing seconds.
The panic instantly evaporated, replaced by a profound, heavy disbelief. Remus looked into Sirius's wide, genuinely horrified eyes, wondering how it was mathematically possible to fall so desperately in love with someone so incredibly stupid.
He slowly picked his book back up and found his paragraph. "Yeah, Sirius. I am madly in love with Severus Snape. You figured it out. Please don't tell James, it would destroy him."
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