#*flashback

[pierppasolini]

Flashback (1981) // dir. Al Parker

[thehowlingremus]

Hogwarts, c. 2010

@evanxbringingthesexybackxrosier​

He had barely been halfway up the stairs to the dormitory when a scent that had become much too familiar to Remus in his time at Hogwarts hit him, followed by the sounds of muttering and laughter, intermingled with mouths against skin. He didn’t have to go any further to know exactly what he would see. Sirius and James. James and Sirius. Jokes that had been getting more explicit but which Remus never found very funny. Cracks in the dynamic of the pack and-- and jealousy.

Probably because Remus could only find closeness in the form of drunken strangers in a dark broom closet. But why would he want closeness anywhere else? The last thing Remus wanted to do was risk his friendship, his pack, the only good thing in his life. He turned and slipped back down the stairs, out the portrait hole despite the Fat Lady’s warnings that it was curfew.

He found himself on the Astronomy Tower. Most people didn’t know how much Remus liked Astronomy. They only saw the way his face screwed up at the thought of tracking the Moon that he always knew instinctively the phases of. He stared at the orb which dictated his life, now a waning crescent, and felt his pockets, but he had been at a Prefect’s meeting before nearly walking in on James and Sirius and had stopped taking cigarettes to those since the Head Boy put him on a warning for it.

Footsteps on the stairs pulled his attention from the sky but it was too late to not get caught so Remus didn’t bother moving. McGonagall tended to let him get away with more than she would most students. She pitied him. Though she would be disappointed in him for being out of the common room after hours, he would get away with a few points taken and a sigh before she sent him to bed with a halfhearted warning. It wasn’t a teacher who appeared, though, but a sixth year. Helena’s brother, Remus’s brain supplied. “Oh,” he said, letting the relief show. “I thought you might be a teacher.” He looked up at the sky again before shuffling over and patting the ground beside him. Anyone who came up here this time of day probably wanted to be alone but sometimes it was better to be alone together with someone else.

[faizashafiqs]

@aliyashafiq​

“You do this often?”

       A coy smile rested upon her lips as she looked toward the practically glowing woman. Faiza didn’t care if it was just for photos, or to upset Aliya’s parents. Ultimately Faiza was happy to be apart of the plan at all. Dressed in her favorite yellow dress, she had made sure that her curls were under control. Although it wasn’t a real date ( although it was a sort of date, wasn’t it ? ) Faiza took her appearance seriously, the heels resting on her feet were testament to that enough. She smoothed out the crinkles that had been created in her dress from the short walk. Admittedly it was a beautiful day, clear skies, and the sweet scent of the salt of the ocean. 

         Faiza led the way to the table, having rented out the tiny restaurant for the occasion. There was a hum on her lips as she tried to contain her excitement. The restaurant was not only to die for when it came to a view, but it was the best food that Faiza had on her travels thus far. She pulled out Aliya’s chair before heading to her own, pushing the hair out of her face. Faiza thanked the waiter for the wine they brought to the table and picked up her own glass. She swirled the pink liquid around before bringing the cup to her lips. 

        “So,” She began, eyes wide with actual interest. “how long have you been in Spain ? ” When they had got to talking beforehand she had never gotten a timeline of Aliya’s travels, just a spotty outline. Faiza leaned back in her chair, trying to extinguish the patch of butterflies that had sprung forth from her stomach. It was astounding to her that she was so nervous for a date. It was ridiculous even. She was supposed to be having fun, playing her part for the cameras, and instead it felt like she was sweating twice as much as normal. This had never happened in any of the cities, nor with anyone else she’d gone out with. 

       She shook the thought from her head, smiling over toward Aliya. “I hope it’s to your liking.” Faiza said softly, not truly a question but wanting some affirmation that she had planned an all right fake date. She looked down at her menu, trailing over the words as she searched for the right dish. “Oh, the fried scampi sounds like it’d be delicious.”

[remoonusarchive]

a thing called love;

Most men are like me, they struggle and doubt They trouble their minds day in and day out Too busy with living to worry about A little word like love But when I see a mother's tenderness As she holds her young close to her breast Then I thank God that the world's been blessed With a thing called love

Summary: Snippets from each summer between Hogwarts years, exploring Remus’ muggle education and relationship with his parents. Self-para; closed

1972

Only his dad was there to meet him off the Hogwarts Express. Remus wasn’t surprised but it meant he didn’t want to take too much time saying goodbye to his friends because Lyall had always been more wary than Hope over Remus having close friends. He settled for a smile and wave to each James, Sirius and Pete before he took Lyall’s proffered arm and was take side-along apparition with a crack. He hadn’t made an effort to befriend anybody else that first year.

They apparated straight into their back garden where Hope was lounging in a garden chair, a cigarette between her fingers. Music Remus didn’t recognise drifted out through the open kitchen window. It must be a new album.

“Remus bach, cariad! How was it? Tell me all.”

And he did. As he talked, the Welsh accent that had mostly faded over the course of the year came back in strength and his eyes lit up as he described each of his classes. Lyall went inside with a mutter about it being cold, but Remus barely noticed. It was his mam he wanted to tell about Hogwarts.

“And you have friends?” Hope asked, taking out another cigarette.

“I do,” Remus said his eyes distractedly fixed on the spent cigarette butts in the ash tray. “Mam, can I try one now?”

“Remus, we’ve talked about this before. When you’re older.”

“I’m fourteen, I am. I’ve seen pictures of you smoking at fourteen.”

“Oh, that’s true, like.”

“Hope!” Lyall’s sharp reproach came from the kitchen.

“I mean, what the fuck, Remus, you’re fourteen, of course you can’t have a cigarette,” Hope said.

“Hope.”

This time, Hope frowned and lowered her voice so her husband wouldn’t hear from in the house. “What did I do?”

“You said fuck,” Remus told her, “but it’s okay, that just made me look cooler at school.”

“You’re cool anyway, fy machgen i. So your friends?”

“Yeah! James and Sirius and Peter. I share a dorm with them. We share with another boy, Gideon, but I didn’t talk to him as much, I guess. I just tagged on with the other three, really.” Or maybe ‘was dragged along with’ would be a more representative phrasing.

“And… do they know…?”

“No.” Remus shook his head vehemently and didn’t offer up the fact that sometimes he worried that they were suspicious of where he went each month.

Hope sat back in clear relief. “Well how about you take that trunk of yours upstairs and unpack. You can relax the rest of this week and we’ll start lessons on Monday.”

“Lessons?”

“Just because you’ve gone to Hogwarts, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t study for O Levels. I want you to have all the chances you can when you leave school and that might be easier in the Muggle world.”

Remus nodded. It made sense, and he supposed that it wasn’t like they were going on holiday like so many of his classmates. At least school would pass the time.

1973

She had caved this year. They were in the garden, smoking and studying an Atlas. It was all official, now: Remus was registered as a home-schooled student who would take his O Levels in the summer of ‘74, as soon as he returned from Hogwarts. He would be taking English, Welsh, Maths, Science, Latin and Geography and a CSE in Art. Not History, as he sometimes confused what the muggles knew about and what they didn’t and not any other subjects as they didn’t have the time to go in enough depth.

“Was it really okay?” Hope asked.

Remus looked up from his work. He had thought they weren’t going to talk about it but perhaps Hope had just been waiting until Lyall was at work. He took a drag before he replied, “It really was. They were great. I told you they worked it out, but they didn’t go and tell anybody else. Well, except talking to each other about it, I guess, but nobody else. They promised they wouldn’t tell anyone else. And then when they told me they just said I was still their friend and it was fine. Nothing really changed. Except that they were coming and visiting me in the Hospital Wing more the morning after and taking notes for me in classes I missed. They were really great.”

“I’m so happy you’ve got good friends, fy machgen i.”

Remus beamed. His dad hadn’t seemed so happy that James, Sirius and Pete had found out about his lycanthropy. Lyall worried so much. “Me too.”

1974

“Who are you?”

Remus blinked at the student in his impeccable muggle uniform. He tugged on his second-hand jumper self-consciously. “I’m home-schooled, I am. I’m just here to sit my exams.”

“Was that your mam?” The boy craned his head to look at Hope’s retreating figure. Remus nodded, feeling a little uncomfortable. He didn’t often go out in public with her. Lyall always took him to and from Kings Cross and otherwise he didn’t really ever leave home during the summer. He knew she turned heads, with her long wavy hair and her thin frame, that constant cigarette between her fingers and dark red lips. Remus loved his mam. He loved how she laughed herself into a coughing fit whenever he told her what he and his friends got up to at school. He loved how she had bought him his own lighter, in Gryffindor colours. He loved that she couldn’t bear to be in a room with a record player that wasn’t playing. She was the embodiment of a cool parent, but he had been used to not having to share her with anybody except his dad and he didn’t like the look in the boy’s eyes. “I’m Remus,” he said, holding out a hand.

“Weird name,” the boy said. “David.”

“How Welsh,” Remus replied as David shook his hand. “Are you taking O Level Maths today, too?”

*

He finished the exam early. It was pretty easy compared to the year of Arithmancy he had done and he was even allowed a calculator. In the time while he waited for everybody else to finish, he started writing some letters.

James,

Muggle exams are so boring. There’s so much writing and all the desks are creaky and this bloke keeps walking past me with squeaky shoes. I prefer the practical exams we get in some of our subjects at Hogwarts. Wouldn’t it have been cool this year if our DADA exam had been more of an obstacle course of all the dark creatures we studied (except for werewolves and vampires of course) instead of just demonstrating the spells without the actual creature there. Prof really missed a trick there. I’m glad it won’t be him next year. Summer’s boring already and it’s only been a week. Can’t wait until September. Have a great holiday.

Remus

P.S. When would be a good time to go to Diagon Alley?

Sirius,

We’ve come to this school in Swansea today so I can do my muggle exams (I know, I know, school during the summer, but it wasn’t my choice, I solemnly swear!) and there was someone on a motorcycle who looked just like you. You’re definitely still in London, right? I’d be surprised if you’d managed to learn how to ride a motorcycle and get to Swansea but seriously I’m still half-convinced it was you. Hope your parents aren’t being too shite this summer. I’d say you can escape to mine if you want, but my dad’s still being weird about the fact that you know about my furry little problem as if it hasn’t been NEARLY TWO YEARS now. I swear he doesn’t care this much about Pete knowing; it’s ridiculous. Anyway, we’ll have to try and coordinate Diagon Alley this year and sneak you away from your family for a bit.

Remus

Pete,

I need all the details of your holiday so I can live vicariously through you. I’ll repay you in chocolate. When do you get back? I know not for ages and we won’t get our letters for even longer but I want to try and coordinate a Diagon Alley trip with the others and I have nothing else to look forward to before September.

Remus

1975

If Remus had been born ten years earlier, he would be a legal adult now. Instead, he was still stuck at home, unable to apparate, unable to do any magic outside of school, and studying A Level material for English, Geography and Maths. Hope’s cough had become as constant as Lou Reed’s new album in the background and Remus had noticed that sometimes she pressed her hand to her chest as if it hurt but they still smoked together and she didn’t blink when he admitted to using weed before a full moon to help with the pain. She went out, supposedly to buy teabags, and came back with cannabis. Remus never asked where she got it. Neither of them told Lyall.

When he was alone, Remus buried himself in research about Animagi. Not the technicalities of how to become one — they were fairly confident on that by now even if it was going to be a long and difficult process — but attempting to work out if their assumptions were correct and that his friends would be safe around the wolf if they were successful.

He hoped the animals they turned into would be useful.

A part of him was jealous that he would never be able to join them in that particular quest but the idea of getting the wolf to put a mandrake leaf in its mouth and not swallow it was ludicrous.

1976

The July full moon was almost immediate after the end of fifth year so Remus had returned home and instantly gone to bed. He had spent the moon in the usual way in the basement but it felt so restrictive and more painful than before, perhaps because he could now compare it to the freedom and ease of transforming with his friends. With Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Moony was able to run free in the forest and no longer took out his anger on himself. He was less angry, because he wasn’t contained.

He curled up on the sofa the next day, sipping on tea and watching Lyall read the Sunday Prophet.

“Werewolf attack at Cwm Rheidol,” Lyall said to Hope. Remus frowned and picked up an A Level Maths textbook that he knew he wouldn’t actually read. He couldn’t concentrate on the law of sines when his body ached from last night’s transformation and his parents were casually discussing werewolves in Wales and when his brain was still fried from OWLs and when the terror over what could have happened because of Sirius’ prank on Snape earlier in the year was still fresh in his mind.

“Was it him?” Hope asked.

Remus’s frown deepened.

“Doesn’t say, but probably. Child was seven. Parents are blood traitors.”

“Probably who?” Remus blurted. Both his parents turned to him, looking surprised that he was following their conversation. Even without his friends, recovery was quicker this summer. He could tell they didn’t want to answer him and he could only think of one reason why they wouldn’t, even though it didn’t line up with what they had led him to believe in the past.

Another young victim.

A reason for the attack.

“I thought it was just a random attack where I was bitten. It wasn’t, was it?”

“Remus, don’t be—” Lyall started in a tone of impatience.

“No, fy machgen,” Hope cut in. She looked so tired. “It wasn’t random.”

“Why me?”

Hope gave Lyall a significant look. Lyall sighed and set the newspaper to the side. “You were attacked by a werewolf named Fenrir Greyback…”

The story was hard to swallow. Remus listened as his father explained how he had come to his job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Remus already knew Lyall had attempted to tighten protocol surrounding the Werewolf Registry in the past but he had not realised that his father had also overseen to trials of those suspected to be involved in werewolf attacks. His stomach turned when Lyall repeated the words that had angered Greyback.

“Not that I still think that, of course,” Lyall said, seeing the distress on Remus’s face, “but that was why he plotted to hurt you.”

Remus didn’t respond. His mind was whirring at ninety miles an hour. He thought of Lyall’s constant fear that Remus’s lycanthropy would be discovered. He thought of Hope’s secrecy when it came to asking about full moons at Hogwarts — she always waited until Lyall was at work and even the letters she sent during the year, she wrote in Welsh. He thought of how many times they had moved house in the past and how he was never allowed to stray too far from home, except for school. He even got the impression that Lyall didn’t think he should be taking muggle exams. Where Hope thought he might have a better chance of holding down a job in the muggle world, where nobody would ever suspect what he truly was, Lyall thought it was reckless and that Remus would be better to be hired by somebody who knew the whole story and could make accommodations. As if anybody would hire him.

Part of Remus wondered if his father really thought he would be better off without a job at all, and had simply said that so that Remus wouldn’t give up on school altogether.

He thought of his parents, obsessed for so long with finding a cure and keeping others safe from him. Maybe if Hope had known more of what she could have done to help him, she would have, just as she got him the weed and slipped cigarette boxes into the care packages she sent to Hogwarts. Lyall, though… Remus could only imagine how horrified his father would be if he knew that Remus’s best friends were illegal Animagi and that they actually helped. Lyall still looked scared and a little queasy whenever it came up that James, Sirius and Pete knew at all, however much Remus insisted that they accepted him regardless.

Sometimes, Remus wondered where he would be if Dumbledore had never turned up and offered him a place at Hogwarts. His childhood had been lonely and friendless and there had been no signs of change until that fateful day. Probably, his father had intended to keep him isolated and why should it matter if he was, in fact, dangerous and soulless.

“It’s to keep everyone safe,” Lyall had always told him when he was little and wanted to go and play with the children riding their bikes down the road. But there was no danger if it wasn’t a full moon and Remus was only just, at eighteen, realising how brainwashed he had been to have accepted the explanation without question.

“Remus?” Hope’s raspy voice brought him out of his reverie.

“A childhood like that really messes a person up, you know,” Remus told them. His eyes were wet, he noticed.

“I know,” Hope said. “It worries me that he’s back in Wales. Maybe we should think about moving again. Perhaps somewhere on the East coast.”

“Why does it matter? He can hardly do anything else to me.”

“He might try to recruit you to his pack. A lot of the werewolves are working for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, now.”

Remus automatically looked at his mam in time to see her stubbornly mouth ‘Voldemort’. She thought wizards were ridiculous for avoiding his name. “And you didn’t think I needed to know sooner? He could have tried to recruit me at any time, if he prefers to raise his pack himself. He’s not going to sit around and wait for me to turn nineteen.”

“It was because we love you. We were trying—”

Remus stood before he could hear another of his father’s excuses. “I’m going to have a bath.”

He was a little surprised to find it was Sirius he wanted to talk to the most. After the Snape incident, things had been a little tense even after he had decided to forgive and move on and allow Padfoot to join him for the next full moon. If anyone was going to understand how he felt, it would be Sirius. Remus wasn’t exaggerating when he said a childhood in fear and isolation messed a person up and Sirius, too, had suffered traumas in his past and an expectation that one day he would join the Dark side, just because of who he was. A Black and a werewolf. Both expected to be sorted into Slytherin. Both were relieved beyond words when they had ended up in Gryffindor instead. And both still bore the weight of their upbringing. Remus considered a new perspective on the incident last term. Sirius had made one mistake because he didn’t think, and he had been guilty and apologetic afterwards. Lyall, though older and more highly educated, had made a series of mistakes and continued to defend his decisions.

Remus knew who he could forgive more easily.

1977

If it weren’t for the Order and finally having his apparition licence, Remus wouldn’t know what to do with himself for the summer. For the first time since he was four years old, he had no lessons, no school, a real summer holiday, even if it was only a holiday off doing work and not a holiday that involved going anywhere interesting. They now lived in Essex but Remus spent much of the summer at the Potters’ or going to Order meetings. There wasn’t much in the way of assignments for those of them still in school but they could focus on practising magic that would help them and learning to cast corporeal Patronuses for communication.

Really, Remus was happy that he wasn’t being asked to do anything specific yet, because he knew by now that when he was asked, it would involve other werewolves. He wasn’t ready for that yet. He wasn’t ready to meet Greyback.

“I barely see you these days,” Hope said to him over lunch one day.

“Sorry, mam. I just want to spend time with my friends.”

Her eyes softened. “I know. I’m happy for you, I am. I just miss you as well.”

“Do you not want to go back to work?”

Hope didn’t reply straight away. Instead she was taken with a coughing fit that Remus waited to subside. “Remus bach, I’m not well enough.”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not very well, fy machgen i.”

“It’s just a cough, isn’t it?”

There was pity in her eyes and Remus’s heart sunk. He should have seen it sooner. Perhaps a part of him already knew. After all, for a while he had felt bad whenever he told his classmates that he was visiting his sick mother during the full moon and instead had fallen back on excuses of his own health suffering, even though that felt more risky. “Mam…” All of a sudden he felt like a small, scared child. He could have been five years old again, asking why everything hurt; clinging onto his mam in St Mungo’s while a specialised Healer talked to them in whispers.

“I’ll be fine, bach. I’m just too tired to work. Don’t worry about me.”

“Is it my fault? Is it stress?”

“Your dad says it’s because I smoke,” Hope told him, but the way she hesitated and the hint of worry in her eyes convinced Remus that stress did play a part. “I told him I’m just allergic to the stick up his arse.”

Remus’s lips quirked but he couldn’t quite bring himself to laugh. “I’m sorry, mam.”

“No. Remus, no. It’s not your fault. And I’m fine. I’m still going to watch you grow old, I am. Not that it’ll be long! Only one year left of Hogwarts! Look at you, all grown up.”

“Mam,” Remus protested, his cheeks colouring and his worries temporarily dissipating. She laughed and changed the album on the record player. She poured them both a glass of whiskey with a wink and Remus leaned back to listen as that same 1972 Johnny Cash album that had greeted him from school after first year filled the room.

[decdinside]

❝ i have no heart. i only have a hole. ❞ + @bolladonnas

flashback

o colchão de alta qualidade da filha da rainha má deformava levemente sob o peso das duas mulheres. layla estava muito perto. ouviu o que ela dizia, a sombra da insegurança no tom de voz normalmente altivo, e conteve a vontade de sorrir em triunfo. limitou-se portanto a olhá-la de modo penetrante, pondo no rosto uma vulnerabilidade encenada. "então me diga, o que é isso batendo bem aqui?" a mão agora sentia o pulsar ecoando na palma, repousando sobre o coração de belladonna. intimidade. era isso o que buscava. "mesmo se não tivesse, não faria qualquer diferença. não tenho alma, donna." pigarreou com um sorrisinho "espelho espelho meu, existe alguém mais oca do que eu?" questionou-lhe, soando mais honesta do que tinha pretendido. até onde sabia, não passava de uma marionete cujo cerne jazia guardado a centenas de palmos abaixo da terra, numa caixa bonita de madeira de lei. e como ansiava por estar completa. faria de tudo.

[unspeakablevance]

[ caught ] for sofia

[ caught ]  for  your  muse  to  catch  my  muse  wearing  their  shirt with @ofabbott

Slytherin vs Gryffindor was always a brutal match but Slytherin had won and Emm was feeling the high of physical exercise mixed with victory. Rather than celebrating with her teammates, however, her eyes skimmed the students leaving the Hufflepuff stands. A lot of them had been supporting Slytherin, simply because a Slytherin win meant Hufflepuff would pull past Gryffindor to the top of the Inter-House Championship. It was little surprise, then, to see a flash of green within the mixture of weekend clothes and black winter cloaks. When she saw what exactly the flash of green was, a grin lit up her face and she darted through the crowd until she was coming up behind Sofia. “And what do your housemates think of you wearing this?” she asked, arms sneaking around her waist to play with the hem of her spare Quidditch jersey, where it fell over Sofia’s hips. “Maybe we should get it off you,” she added, in a low voice, mouth close to Sofia’s ear, “before anybody complains.”

[proulx-ade-blog]

KISS ME, TEASE ME, TOUCH ME || Summer of 1976 || Demetroulx

Adeline estava longe de New Orleans, devido aos assuntos particulares de seu Senhor, aproveitando as noites quentes de verão que San Francisco oferecia, visitando os bares espalhados pelas ruas íngremes, os shows que aconteciam em céu aberto nos parques da cidade e o que mais a noite no que era conhecida como Paris do Oeste poderia oferecer.

Obviamente, não havia demorado muito para que a vampira encontra-se o seu alvo de interesse, o humano do ano de mil novecentos e setenta e seis era um jovem jornalista que escrevia em um jornal independente desprendido das influencias da mídia, e um exímio poeta em seu tempo livre, chamado Daniel. O conheceu em um bar onde cedia o espaço para artistas lerem suas poesias, as doces palavras proferidas pelo poema melancólico havia tocado Adeline de uma maneira, as quais os outros autores presentes não haviam conseguido, não demorou muito para que ela fosse o abordá-lo e logo estivessem compartilhando a cama em um pequeno apartamento no centro da cidade.

Era dia de seu aniversário e ainda não havia conseguido contatar Atlas, de qualquer forma, não iria incomodá-lo com algo tão banal quando o mesmo parecia ter assuntos mais importantes, como não iria ficar em casa naquela noite onde completaria um século desde que fora nomeada. Acabara partindo para mais umas noites com Daniel e seus amigos, que gostavam de levar a frase “sexo, drogas e rock ‘n roll” a sério, Adeline fazia parte pelo menos de dois terços daquela filosofia, visto que drogas não fazem nenhum efeito em seu metabolismo, porém, nunca deixara de negar uma proposta de festa.

A noite passara e as carícias de Daniel ficavam ainda mais ardentes e intensas ao passar da horas, a ponto de Adeline não importar-se em levá-lo para o apartamento onde estava instalada, ela apenas necessitava sentir o toque dele, o calor humano e vivo que o corpo do homem emanava. Ela não chegava a amá-lo, não como ele acreditava ou precisava, sabia que ele seria que nem os outros que tivera no passado ficaria entediada, seu desejo diminuiria, até um dia sair pela porta sem dizer um adeus, porém, naquele momento, ansiava em sentir seu corpo movendo-se contra o dele, os lábios quentes tocando cada centímetro de sua gélida pele, tinha necessidade de sentir o coração pulsante e sangue correndo nas veias de Daniel.

Não demorou a ceder ao seu desejo, seu vestido jogado em algum canto de seu quarto enquanto livrava-se naquele momento da camisa que Daniel usava, seus lábios encostando-se à jugular do homem, podia sentir a veia pulsante enquanto lutava contra seus instintos e vontades em não sentir o gosto de uma das únicas coisas que acalmava a besta que escondia dentro de si.

Estava perdida em sua luxúria que mal percebeu o par de olhos tão conhecidos a observar aquela cena, até que, finalmente, notara sua presença, e como deixaria de notar, de uma forma ou de outra, sempre saberia que Atlas estaria perto, a figura observa-lhe atentamente, porém não conseguia decifrá-lo. Daniel parecia absorto em continuar explorando o seu corpo com seus lábios e mãos para notar que não estavam mais sozinhos, entretanto, a sensação já não era mais a mesma de alguns segundos atrás, não com ele ali, o empurrou levemente para o lado caminhando em direção ao seu Senhor. O fato de estar apenas com sua roupa íntima não era o importante, não havia mais sentindo em esconder o seu corpo ao seu Senhor, estava mais preocupada com o que ele poderia fazer com Daniel.

“Monsieur Atlas...” fora a única coisa que conseguira pronunciar, não havia nada a falar, não havia desculpas, apenas os fatos que ele presenciara há pouco.