New-ish Benoni art, I keep forgetting to post here😭I also forgot her rosary so just imagine the firewood is tied together with one until I can get around to finishing it
I was talking about this to my sister just the other day. When it happened, I was just so angry that I didn't really give myself time to be sad about it. But now whenever I think about it I just wanna cry.
I was so excited about it, and then it was just- that. Loke what even was that?
i was super excited for it too. it was all i was talking about for months, i even planned to watch the first couple of episodes on a 3ish hour car ride then finish it later that night. im so glad i didn’t cause i would’ve been in a bad mood the whole holiday lol
when i did come around to watching it, i got almost to the end (episode 5 i think?) and was so unimpressed i just stop watching it💔
In which Remus overhears you talking about the person you have feelings for, and decides to distance himself from you so that he can move on, with no idea that you were talking about him the whole time.
warnings: fem!reader, Remus is an idiot, no use of Y/N, tooth-rotting fluff after some mandatory angst, self-doubt, Remus POV because apparently I like writing this man in distress, healing of emotional wounds, Remus is DOWN BAD, it is implied that reader is short | word count: 7421
note: this sprung into my head as I was making cereal today whilst listening to Move On First by Sadie Jean and I have never sprinted to my laptop so fast oh my god. This is a LONG one, because I am incapable of casually writing about this man. This went from a cuttle little drabble to an emotional ball of pain where reader forces Remus to love himself damnit.
“before you do, just let me learn to fall asleep, just me, without laying on your chest. I’m begging, please, just let me learn to look the other way.”
Remus Lupin was an idiot. A colossal, eavesdropping, heartbroken, fool of an idiot.
Because only an idiot could stand there and listen to – eavesdrop on – the girl he was madly in love with talking with such passion about her feelings for someone else. Someone that wasn’t him.
His heart bled a little at the thought.
It was a complete accident, really, how this had happened. You were with Marlene and Lily, sat in the courtyard on the bench beside the large oak tree, with absolutely no idea that he was on the other side of it, back pressed against the bark, book completely forgotten in his lap, his desperate attempt at solitude turned into an exercise of torture.
He could get up and leave – he ought to get up and leave – but then you would see him and you would call him over and ask him how his day was and lay your head on his shoulder with no idea that every breath you took and every loving word out of your mouth were like daggers slowly peeling his skin from his bones.
He took a shuddering breath, pressing his head back against the tree trunk, eyes screwed firmly shut. Perhaps if he tried hard enough, he could block it out. He knew immediately that it was futile – it was you, there was no blocking you out. His body was attuned to every move you made, every sweet word from your lips. He couldn’t ignore you even if he tried.
And so he sat, and waited, and prayed for it to end so that he could crawl back to his dorm and do something entirely unmanly like cry.
“And his eyes. Have you seen them?” You continued, entirely oblivious to the metaphorical daggers you were throwing his way. “I’ve never seen eyes like them.”
“I will admit, he does have nice eyes,” Lily agreed. Traitor. “I’ve never seen that shade of brown before.”
“Like getting lost in a forest.” Your voice was wistful in a way that had Remus’s heart clenching, and he pressed his hand against his chest to try to soothe the ache of it all.
“I will say,” Lily continued. “He is rather handsome. He’s tall…”
“So tall,” you said. “I’d have to tug him down by his hair to kiss him.”
“You’ll give him a hunchback by the age of thirty,” Marlene scoffed.
“If the person I’m in love with develops a hunchback for the sole reason that they’ve spent so long kissing me, then I have done my job well.”
In love with. The words echoed sharply in his mind, pulsing against every crevice of his thoughts until he couldn’t escape them, until they were all he could hear. You were in love with someone. You, perfect and kind, generous and loving, so beautiful it hurt, were in love.
Oh god, he would take a thousand full moons over the way he was feeling right now.
“Or you could just, ya know, climb him. Like a tree,” Lily suggested, snickering.
“That too.”
“Yeah,” Marlene said thoughtfully. “Honestly, I get it. He’s hot. Nice hair, nice arms, and he’s got that whole rugged and mysterious vibe about him.”
Rugged and mysterious. If there were two things that Remus Lupin wasn’t.
“He does have nice hair,” Lily agreed. “I have no idea how he makes it so fluffy. Do you think it would be weird if I asked for his haircare routine?”
“I think it would make Sirius jealous that you were going to anyone but him for haircare advice,” Marlene snickered.
“And he’s so gentle, too,” you continued. “Have you seen how kind he is with everyone? Always putting other people first, helping others with their homework, sitting with people when they need someone to talk to.”
“Not to mention how he is with you.” Marlene hummed idly, her voice teasing. “We’ve all seen the heart eyes aimed your way.”
“Oh please,” you scoffed, but there was a note of hope to your voice that had Remus wanting to curl up and sink into the earth. “He doesn’t have heart eyes.”
“He most certainly does with you. You’d have to be blind to miss it. And he’s always going out of his way to help you with stuff. Carrying your bag, bringing your favourite snacks to your study sessions in case you get hungry, always giving you hugs and forehead kisses and ugh, you two are sickening and you’re not even together.”
Hugs? Forehead kisses? Oh, he was going to be sick. The thought of someone else touching you like that, of holding you the way he did, of knowing the soft feel of you under their arm and the press of you against their skin, had him wanting to break things.
But he and you were purely platonic. Close friends who happened to both be tactile people. He, touch starved and desperate for affection, you, the epitome of a human ball of sunshine sharing love with the mindless press of your lips against cheeks and the gentle squeeze of palms in a way that was purely platonic and yet had his insides melting every damn time.
If you and this person were together, those touches would have to stop. He’d have to let go of the feeling of you beside him, put a stop to the way he would foolishly take your hand between classes or the way you would lean against him in the common room when the fire was low and sleep hung in the air like a weighted blanket.
“I just…” you said wistfully. “God, I just want to kiss him so badly.”
His stomach soured. Bile rose up his throat, and he rubbed a tired hand over his eyes.
His gaze caught on the scars on the back of them, and the sight of them made him irrationally angry. Of course you didn’t want him. His skin was a web of pain and trauma, a map of angry slashes and wounds that had left both physical and mental marks, etching themselves so deep into body and soul that they would never go away.
As if you could hear his thoughts, your voice drifted over to him again. “He just deserves so much. He goes through so much pain, and I just wish I could be there for him, do things to make it better for him.”
He had never quite felt anything like the way his soul was drowning now. Whoever this was, this mysterious handsome stranger with a troubled past, was someone you wanted to help. Did you want to press your lips to their scars like you sometimes did with Remus’s? Did you want to brush away their tears and tell them they were loved, just as you did with him?
He hated the thought of it. Hated it so desperately he couldn’t breathe.
“The scars are hot too,” Marlene continued.
“Marlene!”
“What?” She asked defensively. “Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re not,” you conceded. “You’re really not. But… they must have hurt so badly. I don’t want to make light of that just because they only add to his attractiveness.”
Lily scoffed. “God, you’re so sweet. No wonder he’s into you.”
Remus, as much as it pained him, wholeheartedly agreed. You were so sweet, so pure – he wondered what you thought of him, of the web of pain marring his body. Whoever this person was, their few scars must have been nothing to his. He had never come across anyone at Hogwarts who looked like him, and the thought had his stomach sinking.
“He’s not into me,” you said, and yes, there it was, the sadness Remus would have done anything to erase from your voice.
Whoever this person was, they were a fool. How could they not be into you, love every facet of you, every smile, every laugh, every frown, every tear. How could anyone be anything but desperately in love with you?
He needed to leave. He couldn’t be there a second longer, listening to you gush about this person as if they were the greatest thing to ever walk the earth. His hands were shaking as he pressed down against the grass, ready to lift himself up, when Lily spoke up again.
“So, are you going to tell him?”
Remus froze.
“... I don’t know.” Your voice was quiet, meek, and Remus strained to hear you, his heart pounding in his chest. “I want to. But I don’t know if he likes me like… that. And we’re such good friends, what if I ruin it by asking and he doesn’t actually want anything to do with me?”
It was horrible, absolutely horrible, that Remus was praying for that to happen. That whoever this person was would absolutely lose their mind (because what sane person would reject you?) and say no, and he could be the one to console you, to hold you close.
He hated himself for it. You deserved to be happy, damnit, regardless of who it was with, even the very thought of it had him wanting to throw up.
“Trust me,” Lily said gently. “He’s into you. He’d be out of his mind to say no. I have never seen anyone look at someone the way he looks at you.”
That was a lie. Remus was fairly certain his own eyes formed literal love hearts whenever they settled on you.
“You have to tell him,” Marlene agreed. “Listen, if he says no then he says no. You two are too good friends to let that ruin anything. Him saying no is better than you saying nothing and regretting it for the rest of your days.”
“That’s true.” Your words had his heart sinking like a stone in his chest. “Okay,” you agreed. “Tonight. I’ll tell him tonight.”
Tears rose unbidden to his eyes, wetting his cheeks before he could stop them. That was it, then. It was over. He had lost you before he had the chance to really have you, because no one in their right mind would ever say no to a chance with you, and that meant that he would never get the chance to feel your lips on his, to run his hands through your hair as your head lay on his chest, to love you so wholly and completely that it would ruin him and he would love every second of it.
He wouldn’t be able to stomach it, seeing you with someone else. Watching you kiss them, hold them, love them. He couldn’t bear it.
Mind made up, he wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of his jumper and took a deep breath. He would just have to find a way to move on from you, to create a separation big enough that seeing you with another man maybe wouldn’t hurt so much. Even if that meant he had to distance himself from you to do it.
—
The common room was loud, a riot of laughter and bangs, of quills scratching across parchment, of chatter incessantly buzzing against the walls and settling into the very bones of the tower.
Remus could hardly hear it, his eyes fixed bleakly on the fire, his entire body heavy as he sank further into the armchair he had tried to find solace in. He could feel the heat of the flames against his skin, and yet their warmth did little to soothe the cold that had settled into his core and refused to move.
James and Sirius were playing a game of exploding snap on the rug in front of him, Peter lay stretched out on the sofa eagerly watching, making appropriate sounds of awe that James and Sirius seemed to thoroughly enjoy. It should have made him happy, being surrounded by the smiling faces of his closest friends, settled into an atmosphere that reeked of joy and peace.
He felt anything but, and Sirius was beginning to notice.
“Oi, Moony,” he said after a moment of studying him, his dark brows furrowed. “What’s got you being such a sour wolf?”
“Very funny, Pads,” he said, unable to get rid of the heaviness to his voice, lulling the words into a dejected rasp.
“Seriously, mate,” James said as he turned on the rug, leaning against the side of the armchair. His glasses reflected the light from the flames, giving his dark eyes a shine that reeked of concern. “You’ve been down all afternoon. You feeling alright? Something happen?”
Remus was blessedly spared from answering by the opening of the portrait hole, and his heart sank deep into his stomach as you and the girls walked in.
James, spotting Lily, immediately straightened and reached for his hair, embarking in the hopeless quest of getting it to lie flat. “Y’alright, Evans?” He asked eagerly.
Lily, grinning from ear to ear, nudged you. His heart fluttered in a desperate panic as you made your way over to their group. Your cheeks were red, your teeth worrying your lower lip. Your eyes, wide and panicked, were darting around the space, refusing to land on him.
Remus’s throat went tight. His hands were shaking, so he hid them in the folds of his jumper, trying to resist the urge to flee. The room felt too hot, suddenly, stuffy in a way that had him unable to breathe properly.
He couldn’t seem to look away from you – you looked nervous, your shoulders hunched slightly, as if you were sinking into yourself. Had you done it yet? Surely if you had, you wouldn’t be back here, sitting with your friends. If they had said yes, like he just knew they would, then surely you would still be with them – god knew if you were ever foolish enough to give him a chance, Remus wouldn’t let go of you for all the world.
That you were here had to be a bad sign, didn’t it? Had they said no? What kind of idiot would say no? Then again, it was late, maybe you had been with them and left to avoid getting caught out after dark, maybe that nervousness was leftover anxiety or god what if he was reading it wrong and you were blushing because you had just spent however long with the object of your affection, doing things that the very thought of had his stomach turning in disgust.
Please, he thought desperately, ripping his eyes away from you, please, go away.
He couldn’t stand it.
“Go on,” he heard Lily whisper, and looked up right as she nudged you forwards. Towards him.
Your eyes met his at last, your chest rising and falling rapidly in a way that spoke of nerves. Your blush intensified – he wanted to kiss it, press his lips to your cheeks to soothe the heat – and you were fidgeting with your fingers.
“Remus, can I, uh…” You trailed off, looking back at Lily and Marlene quickly. They nodded, grinning. “Can I talk to you, please?” There was a moment of heavy silence. “Alone?”
Remus couldn’t breathe.
So you had told them, and you had come to tell him that the touching had to stop, that the easy friendship he had found with you would have to change. His heart tightened at the thought that you felt it necessary to tell him, that you cared enough to pull him aside and tell him politely that things would have to change.
He opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his tongue. He couldn’t stand the thought of that conversation, of your pitying eyes and furrowed brow. Maybe you’d even hug him, say sorry, say–
“I’m going to bed.” The words ripped out of him before he could stop them.
Six pairs of eyes landed on him, all filled with varying levels of shock and disappointment.
Your shoulders fell, your teeth sinking into your lower lip again. “Oh. Um… is there any chance we could–”
“I’m tired.” He stood abruptly, the movement too harsh, too jerky, and you flinched as he stepped around the armchair, away from you. He couldn’t bear to watch your face crumble like that, and tore his eyes away from you, settling them instead on the staircase that led to the dorms, to isolation, to loneliness.
“Right.” Your voice was thready and thin. “Right. Sure. Another time, then.”
He nodded numbly, his eyes burning.
He had never needed to get away from somewhere so badly. He moved towards the staircases, completely missing the anger on Lily and Marlene’s faces, your defeated expression, and the sighs of disappointment coming from the other Marauders.
—
Sleep did not come easy to him.
He lay there for an hour, tossing and turning, unable to get your face out of his mind. The hope in your voice, the curve of your lips, the shine to your eyes. You haunted every crevice of his mind, and he had no idea how to stop it.
When the door creaked open at last, and Sirius, James, and Peter entered the room, he didn’t say anything, remaining silent behind the drawn curtains of his bed, his futile attempt to block out the world.
He had expected laughter. Had expected teasing remarks, or the tail end of a conversation from downstairs, or even tired yawns. He hadn’t expected the silence to meet him back, settling in the room so heavily he could feel it as a tangible weight on his chest.
Finally, when the light shuffling of them getting ready for bed stopped, and darkness descended over the room, Sirius’s whispered voice cut through the air.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Remus knew it was aimed at him. “An absolute idiot.”
Remus didn’t respond, couldn’t respond through the burning in his eyes and throat. Instead, he rolled over, letting the tears escape, and pressed his face into the pillow.
—
Hours turned into days, and days into a week, until Remus had become so used to fleeing a room when you entered it that it had become second nature to grab his bag and all but leg it the second you stepped foot into wherever he had found himself.
But just because time had passed didn’t mean that avoiding you had become any easier. He wasn’t sleeping, his appetite all but gone, and his chest felt so tight that he had been to Madam Pomfrey twice to see if she could give him anything to ease it. She had smiled sadly and told him that her expertise was limited to physical ailments, and that was that.
He had hoped it would ease, that time would melt the agony into something softer, and yet nothing changed. Every glimpse of you cleaved him in two, every thought of you had his heart clenching, every missed study date and class spent sitting on the opposite side of the room to you felt like absolute torture that he didn’t know how to part with.
Every time his resistance crumbled, or you sent a wavering smile his way, or tried to speak to him and he almost gave in to the urge to just stay, he reminded himself of the alternative. Of seeing you with someone else, of having to watch you fall harder in love with someone that wasn’t him, of watching you go to Hogsmeade together and hold hands on the snowy paths, do all the things with you that he wanted desperately to do.
Granted he hadn’t seen you with anyone else, but that was likely just because he wasn’t looking at you all that much nowadays. He couldn’t, not without sparking the urge to go fill his pockets with stones and walk straight into the Black Lake.
Not that you hadn’t tried to talk to him. It had started off the way it usually was – happy, wide smile aimed at him, eyes bright if not nervous, voice gentle. “Hey Rem! Can we talk for a second?” turned to “Remus, can, uh, can I talk to you? Please?” to “Remus… are you okay?”
You had stopped trying – or rather, he hadn’t given you the opportunity to try again.
He rubbed his hand tiredly over his eyes, leaning against one of the stacks in the library, letting the quiet soothe the headache that had started up behind his eyes a few hours before. The lack of sleep was starting to get to him – every time he came even close to drifting off he would remember that look on your face, the happiness in your voice when you spoke about that person, the stabbing pain in his chest every time he had to avoid you.
Maybe Madam Pomfrey could help with this – she dealt with students who couldn’t sleep all the time, and he wouldn’t mind some time spent blissfully unconscious when he didn’t have to think about anything.
“I just don’t get it!” Someone spoke from behind the stacks. He recognised the voice almost immediately as Marlene, and shrank back further into the shadows. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right then. He didn’t want to do anything that wasn’t curling up in bed to sleep for a year or two.
“Marlene, please don’t.”
Remus damn near fell over.
It was the closest he had been to you in what felt like an eternity, and the sound of your voice was like a gutpunch. Oh god, he needed to get out, needed to get away before he did something stupid like hug you from behind and apologize and tell you he loved you until he was breathless from confessing.
“I’m serious!” Marlene continued, and he could hear the annoyance in her tone from there. “I don’t get why he’s acting this way. He’s clearly into you, and–”
“Marlene, please just drop it.”
How was this his life? Remus cursed under his breath, lowering his head into his hands. This was twice now he had accidentally ended up eavesdropping on you, and twice now that said eavesdropping had him hearing more than he wanted to about this mysterious person that you were so in love with.
He had clearly angered someone in a past life if this was the karma he was subject to.
“No, Marlene’s right.” And there was Lily, just to complete his torment. “He’s being a right twat. He has no right to treat you the way he has been, he’s supposed to be your friend before anything else.”
Remus stiffened, fingers tight against the bookshelf to this right. Was this person not treating you right? Was that why you had been so hellbent on talking to him recently; you’d been trying to tell him that you were upset?
He swore right then and there that whoever this bastard was, if he was hurting you, then Remus would put him in the goddamn ground.
“I don’t want to talk about him. Clearly you were wrong and he doesn’t feel that way about me. Why else he would be acting like this?”
“Because he’s an idiot,” Marlene grumbled.
“I just… I miss him.” The tears clogging your voice had Remus’s jaw clenching alongside his heart.
God, he wanted nothing more than to drag you into his arms and hold you, to tell you that everything would be okay and that he loved you and that no matter what other twats didn’t want you, he did.
“I miss him so much.”
“Come on, honey,” Lily said gently. “Let’s go back to the common room, settle down. Or we could sneak down to the kitchens, get some food.”
“Not hungry,” you said quietly.
“Baby,” Marlene tutted, “you can’t just wait here forever.”
“It’s just… this is where we sit, sometimes. Where he meets me. I don’t wanna leave in case he comes to find me.”
There was a ringing silence, and he didn’t need to be a Legilimens to know what they were thinking: whoever this was, they weren’t coming. Remus felt sick to his stomach at the thought of you sat there waiting, alone.
Marlene and Lily left, and he could hear you shuffling in your seat. He wanted so desperately to go sit with you, to just be with you. God, he missed you so much he couldn’t breathe with it.
Was this to be his life, going forward? What did it even matter if whoever this was wasn’t showing the same interest in you that you were in them? At what point did he crawl back to you on his hands and knees, beg for forgiveness, and try to kiss away the wounds this person had left on you through their absence?
Stomach soured, he slumped back against the bookshelf, content to just listen to you breathe, knowing in his gut that moving on wasn't working at all.
—
It all came to a head one rainy Monday morning, in the quiet gap between waking and breakfast.
The other Marauders had already left the dorm, shooting him grim smiles as they left, promising to meet him down at the Great Hall. Perhaps they had sensed that he needed some time alone, or perhaps he was simply taking too long, tugging on his robes with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking after another night of tossing and turning.
He was just shoving his shoes onto his feet when the knock came at the door, completely unexpected.
He froze, staring at it, baffled. No one knocked on the door. James, Sirius, and Peter just walked right in, and anyone else who wanted to talk to him would just wait down in the common room.
Slowly, his insides twisting, Remus cleared his throat and reached for the handle. The door swung open with a creak, and everything inside him unravelled at the sight of you on the other side. Hands shaking, hair a mess, uniform crooked, you had never looked more beautiful than you did then, staring at him with your brow furrowed and your hands tucked behind your back.
“Remus.” Your tone was curt, quiet, holding a thousand emotions he was terrified to decipher.
He couldn’t speak, this throat tight. It was for the best – he didn’t trust himself to talk to you right now. If he opened his mouth, the only thing that would come out of it was a harried ‘I love you’, and he couldn’t do that to you, not when you were likely here to confront him on his behaviour, not when you were in love with and still hurt over someone else.
“Can we talk?” You asked quietly, and judging by the look on your face you weren’t about to take no for an answer.
Every emotion, every ounce of pain and exhaustion, seemed to slam into him at once, and suddenly Remus didn’t care that being around you was only going to make those feelings worse. He just needed you, just needed to be around you even for a second, and he nodded gruffly as he opened the door further, allowing you to step inside.
He had never been more aware of his unmade bed, or the pyjamas strung over the headboard, or the opened trunk beside the bedside table that was littered with spare parchment and candle snubs.
You took it all in, something achingly soft on your face that messed with his heart, before your eyes landed on him, soaking in every detail. He shuddered to think of what you must be seeing. He hadn’t looked at a mirror in days, unable to stand the sight of his own reflection.
“You look tired,” you said eventually, and his eyes slipped shut without him meaning to.
“Yeah.” His voice was gruff, raspy with disuse, and he cleared it hastily. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”
He had never hated silence so much in his life. It had never been this awkward around you two, and for the life of him he didn’t know what to do with it.
“I wasn’t going to come up here,” you said quietly. “But Marlene and Lily stole my shoes and said they wouldn’t give them back until I did.”
Remus glanced down and noticed that you were, indeed, shoeless, your grey socks stark against the wooden floor. He would be having words with Marlene and Lily.
“Right,” was all he could say.
He felt restless, just standing in front of you like that, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to move either, drinking in the sight of you like a drowning man would stare longingly at land – too far to get to, yet close enough to hope.
You swallowed, your eyes glassy, and for one horrifying moment Remus thought you were going to cry. “You’ve been avoiding me.” You didn’t give him the chance to respond. “I would like to know why. Please.”
He almost smiled at the forced politeness, how you couldn’t bring yourself to be rude even though he deserved every bit of your ire. And then the demand sank in, and he cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump there. It didn’t work.
He didn’t want to lie to you. The last thing he wanted was to lie to you. And yet he didn’t know how to tell you the truth either.
“I don’t know how to tell you,” he said roughly, shoving his hands into his pockets. God, Sirius and James would throttle him if they could see him now.
You winced, as if his words had confirmed something for you. “That’s okay.” Your voice was shaky. “You don’t have to say anything more. I already know.”
The floor could have fallen out from under him and it would have had the same effect as your words.
“What?”
“I already know. You don’t need to tell me, I already know you don’t feel the same way I do.”
Oh God, and there it was. Was it possible to physically feel your heart shatter? Remus swore it was, and his entire body reacted to the blow of your words, shoulders curving inwards, jaw tightening to stave off tears.
You knew that he was in love with you. And you didn’t feel the same.
“Dove, I–”
“But just because you’re not in love with me doesn’t give you the right to just–”
“What?” His head snapped up. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me,” you said stubbornly, and there was anger in your eyes now amongst the hurt, anger that had his head swimming and his palms sweating because there was no possible way you had said what you just said. “And just because you were too much of a coward to turn me down nicely doesn’t mean you can just ice me out like–”
“You’re in love with me?” His voice cracked around the words. For a moment he regretted saying them, because saying them out loud would give you the opportunity to take them back, and he wanted to cradle them to his heart so desperately for as long as he could.
But then your eyes went wide, and something like horror crossed your face. “You… didn’t know?” Once again, you didn’t let him respond. “Oh god. Oh god, so you weren’t ignoring me because you– you didn’t– please excuse me whilst I go throw myself from the Astronomy tower–”
“But… I don’t understand.”
His entire world had just come crumbling down, the foundations of everything he knew, everything he feared, rattling and falling until he no longer knew which way was up or what to do with himself. His hands were sweating, and he wiped them on his trousers.
“I heard you,” he said, his voice urgent and desperate as he took a step forward. “In the courtyard, with Lily and Marlene. I was there, I heard you. You were talking about this guy, this person you were in love with, and–”
“I was talking about you!”
His entire world narrowed down to you, to the fire in your eyes, the flush on your cheeks. He stepped forward, to do what he wasn’t sure – shake you? Question your sanity? Kiss the living daylights out of you?
“But in the library, you were–”
“I was waiting for you! That’s where we always meet, where we study, where we sit together. And I thought you would… I don’t know, I thought you would come find me and explain or something.”
You were waiting for him. You were talking about him.
“You were talking about… me?”
“Of course I was! Seriously, Remus, I described you to a T and just because you don’t feel the same doesn’t mean that you had any right to–”
“I love you.” The words ripped themselves out of him.
You froze. Your chest rose and fell sharply, your eyes glistening. “... What?”
“I love you,” he repeated, and it was as if a great weight had lifted off his shoulders, something inside him loosening and allowing air into his lungs for the first time since he sat against that tree. “I love you so much, I don’t know how to breathe with it.”
Your hands were shaking. “Then… why? Why would you act like this? You haven’t spoken to me in a week, you’ve avoided me every chance you could get, you acted like I didn’t exist, Remus, that’s not… that’s not how you treat someone you love.”
The air ripped out of him, and he reached out to you blindly, hands settling on your cheeks. The smoothness of your skin beneath his rough palms had him dizzy with need, with longing, with everything he had missed so fiercely.
“I thought you were in love with someone else,” he implored. “The way you were talking about him, you sounded so enamoured, and it killed me because you were going to tell him that night and–”
But you had tried to tell him, hadn’t you? And he had been so caught up in his misery that he didn’t notice the signs. You weren’t blushing and nervous because you had spent the evening with another man, you were blushing and nervous because you were about to tell him – him, Remus Lupin – that you were in love with him.
His heart tripped over itself in attempt to keep up with the thoughts racing through his brain.
“And it didn’t cross your mind for one second that I was talking about you?”
It hadn’t. It honest to god, truly hadn’t, because surely there was no way that someone as perfect as you could want someone as broken and damaged, as scarred, as he? Surely you, beautiful and kind and loving, deserved someone better than him, who had to crawl into a tunnel once a month to scream and tear the skin from his bones.
“I didn’t… I didn’t think it was possible that you could– that you could feel that way about me. The things you said, I’m not– I’m not–”
Hearing the incredulity in his voice, you reached for his hand, and his fingers spasmed in your grip as you led him towards the mirror. When he realised what you were doing he froze, shaking his head, but you tugged him forward anyway, until the two of you stood side by side, hands interlinked between you.
Remus couldn’t look away from your hands in the mirror, his so much larger and rougher than yours, so scarred in comparison to your smooth skin. You leant up on your tiptoes, lips brushing his ear, and a shudder rolled down his spine.
“What did I say?” You asked. “About this person I’m in love with?”
He swallowed heavily, the words etched into his memory – they had haunted him every minute of the last week. “Dove, why–”
“What did I say?”
“You…” His throat was tight again. “You complimented their eyes. Said they were a shade of brown you’ve never seen before. Like… like getting lost in a forest.”
You dragged your fingers up his cheeks, thumbs smoothing over his eyelids when they fluttered shut. The touch was a soothing balm against every ache that he harboured in his heart.
“What else?” Your voice was little more than a whisper.
“You called them – me – handsome.”
Your fingers ghosted over his cheeks, brushing the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw. His lips parted on a ragged exhale.
“Open your eyes.”
He did, tentatively, and the sight of your hands on his face in the reflection had his knees weakening. “You said they were tall. So tall you’d give them a hunchback just from pulling them down to kiss you…”
Your fingers moved upwards, thumbs brushing his ears as you buried your hands in his hair, guiding him gently down until his nose brushed yours. He slouched, letting you guide him, his entire world narrowing down to the shape of your lips where they hovered just inches away from yours.
You grinned, as if you had just proved something monumental to yourself, the pad of your thumb brushing along his scalp in a way that had him melting in your grip.
“What else?”
“You called them rugged and mysterious,” his voice was embarrassingly breathy. “Said that they had nice hair, fuck–” You tightened your grip on his hair, and it took everything in him to keep his eyes on yours, watching every flash of joy and mischief and love clash in them.
“Lily still wants your haircare routine.”
“State secret,” he said with a crooked smile, although he doubted there was anything he would keep from you if you just kept looking at him like that.
“What else?” You asked, and although he had absolutely no idea where you were going with this, he found himself replying anyway.
His hands felt heavy at his sides, and he reached up to ghost them over your waist, not quite making contact, terrified to touch you in case it would make this moment – this beautiful, perfect moment that he wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t a dream – end.
“You said they were gentle. Kind. Would carry your books, pack your favourite snacks, and would kiss your forehead–” and fuck, he did do all that. It had been so mindless, taking care of you, so natural to him that for you to praise it like you had felt so monumental that you must have been talking about someone else, but no. “You said their…”
And that’s when he trailed off. His tongue felt heavy, and he couldn't bring himself to speak the words.
“Say it, Remus,” you said gently.
He shook his head, hating himself for the tears in his eyes, and you brushed your nose against his so carefully it was as if you were worried he would fall to pieces in your palms. “Say it.”
“You said that– you said that their– my–”
“Say it.”
“That my scars were… attractive…” The last word was spoken as a curse.
You pulled away, and a pathetic noise of displeasure ripped itself from his throat as his hands spasmed. This was it, he thought miserably. This was where the other shoe dropped.
His eyes slid shut, unable to stand the sight of you walking away from him, but your fingers curled under his chin, guiding his face upwards instead.
“Look at the mirror.”
“Dove…”
“Look at the mirror, Remus.”
He forced himself to open his eyes and looked at his reflection, seeing everything he hated about himself on full display. The gangly limbs, the pale freckled skin, the scars. There were so many of them, slashed across the bridge of his nose, down his hairline, up his jaw.
The tears in his eyes spilled over, and he had never felt more vulnerable in his life than he did when you reached up to brush them away with your thumbs, your own eyes glassy as you stared up at him with so much love. He didn’t take his eyes off his reflection, trying to see what you saw when you looked at him, trying to understand how anyone could think that such an ugly part of him could be attractive.
You slowly ran your finger across the scar on the bridge of his nose, and his breath was shuddery as he resisted the urge to back away. He didn’t want you touching them. Touching them would make them real, and you would see them for what they were: a reflection of the darkest parts of himself.
“You are so, so brave…” Your words were little more than an adoring whisper. “Your scars are your story, Remus. Each slash and mark on your skin is a reminder of all the times I could have lost you and didn’t. A reminder of everything you’ve had to face and came out stronger for it, a reminder of everything you continue to endure and still be the man that you are today.”
He shook his head, shoulders heaving, chest cracked open, raw and vulnerable, but you didn’t let him talk.
“They’re your strength. Your resilience. I could never hate them.”
You slowly guided his face away from the mirror, reaching up on your tiptoes to press your forehead against his. He gasped, breath ghosting over your skin, the sensation of you against him a heady drug he couldn’t live without.
“I could never feel anything but love for any part of you.”
Remus sank against you, his entire body heavy, every inch of him feeling so loved he didn’t know how to cope with it. No one had ever looked at him, seen every inch of him in all its terrible glory, and loved him anyway.
“What else?”
“What?” Remus asked, his mind cloudy, unable to think of anything but you and the smell of your perfume and the feel of your lips so close to his.
“I said one more thing about them. What did I say?”
“I don’t…” It hit him then, suddenly, and his heart began to race again. “You said… you said you wanted to kiss them.”
“Am I allowed to?” You asked, and there were nerves in your voice, though he couldn’t fathom why. He had been dreaming about this for years, and if you wanted to kiss him the last thing he was going to do was say no.
In fact, the second the words left your lips he knew there was nothing he needed more in life than to feel the press of his lips against yours, and that if it didn’t happen soon he might just die. He nodded mindlessly, eyes slipping shut once more, breath ragged.
“Please…”
He leant down just as you reached up onto your tiptoes, your lips meeting in the middle in a gentle press that had him exhaling harshly against your mouth. It was everything, everything, he had ever dreamed it would be, slow and soft and so full of love that he could do nothing but sink into you, one hand coming up to cradle your face, the other tangling in your hair, arching your head back to meet him.
You pulled away first, and he chased your lips like they were a lifeline, until you were grinning against him and he couldn’t help but smile back.
“You love me?” You asked quietly, and Remus laughed breathlessly as he bumped his nose against yours, pressing his lips to yours once more, desperate and heady, trying to convey without words every emotion tucked away in his battered heart.
“So, so much.” He pulled you to him, tucking your head beneath his chin, pressing his lips to the crown of your head over and over again, hardly able to believe that you were there with him like this.
You sighed happily, pressing your face into robes, and then giggled. “We are definitely late for breakfast.”
“Worth it,” he said immediately. He slouched down once again to press his lips to yours, and then pulled back with a hum. “We’ll have to come up with a solution for this, by the way.”
“Solution for what?”
“How goddamn short you are. As much as I love you, I actually don’t want a hunchback by the time I’m thirty.”
You laughed, slapping at his chest. “Well, I could always, what did Lily say? Climb you like a tree?”
You were going to put him in an early grave, Remus was sure of it.
He would have responded, when his brain started functioning again, but your stomach interrupted loudly instead.
You flushed bright red as he laughed, smoothing a hand up and down your spine. “Come on, dove. Let’s get some food in you.”
You nodded, moving towards the door, when you suddenly froze. “Remus?”
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