So it’s just barely past midnight where I am, which means that today is officially @withrewings birthday!
I think I’ve sat here for about 20 minutes now, trying to come up with the words to describe how amazing you are. And it’s nuts because I’ve only known your for about a year and a half and yet I feel like I’ve known you forever. You always make me laugh and then your angst makes me cry and I honestly don’t cannot imagine what I would do if I had never met you. You were one of my first people I got to know on here and I am so, so honored to call you a friend. Hope you have a great day ❤️❤️❤️
also I asked Aly if she wanted angst or fluff and she said angst i promise this isn’t just ash being an angst birthday person
Remus is half-asleep when he hears the telltale footsteps of someone entering the common room, the noise just barely audible over the pouring rain and pounding wind. He’s out of bed in an instant, his gripped tightly in his hand. For a moment, he can barely breathe, memories of another rainy night filling his mind, the feeling of claws against his skin and teeth sinking into the soft spaces between his ribs. He’s always been a light sleeper since then, the memory of fear embedded underneath his skin like a blade.
With too-light breaths Remus slips out of the dorms and into the common room. He can barely hear anything past the storm; a mass of darkness and roaring wind. He hesitates, caught between wanting to go back to sleep and that dissonant chord in the center of his chest, that nauseating feeling that something was wrong -
Remus thinks his heart stops when he sees the crumpled figure, half propped up against the wall and utterly soaked by the rain. He rushes over; Sirius stares back at him, all high cheekbones and uptilted eyes and bruises all over his face. Blood runs down his neck from a cut along his cheek, the red shockingly vivid against the paleness of his skin.
“Jesus fuck,” Remus says, and holds the portrait open as Sirius staggers inside. He reaches out, to steady Sirius, maybe, or even just to touch him but the first brush of his fingertips against Sirius’ body makes him flinch back. “God, Sirius, I thought - “
He cuts himself off, the thoughts swirling filling his head. Sirius had left barely a day earlier - my birthday, he had said. My parents want me back.
Don’t go, Remus told him. You know they’ll hurt you.
Reg’s already there, Sirius said, his voice hollow and empty. What else can I do?
He shakes the memory off impatiently, the wet slide of water running down his wrist. Sirius is soaked, puddles of rainwater collecting on the ground around him. “God, Sirius, why didn’t you apperate?”
“Can’t.” Sirius shakes his head as he collapses onto the sofa, wincing as he obviously pulled at whatever unseen wounds were hidden underneath his robes. “Not from my house. I had to walk to escape the wards.”
Remus shivers at the thought - Sirius, broken and in pain, walking through the storm. He swallows, hard, sliding to his knees in front of the couch as he helped Sirius shed his sodden robes. “What did they do to you?”
A bitter smile twists across Sirius’ face. “What didn’t they do? They want me to take the Mark.”
The robes drop from Remus’ fingers, collapsing into a sodden heap on the floor. He curses, something vicious twisting inside of him as he stared at Sirius. “No. It’s too - “
“I’m sixteen now,” Sirius murmurs. “Happy fucking birthday to me.”
Remus ignores him, the panic slowly rising in his chest. “Tell me you said no.”
Sirius stares back at him and Remus can almost see the shadows in his eyes, the future tangled and knotted into bits of string. He grabs Sirius’ arm, ignoring the coldness of the fabric; Sirius winces but doesn’t pull away as Remus shoves the fabric up.
The skin there is bare, just wet skin. Remus runs his fingers along Sirius’ forearm and lets out a shaky exhale. “You can’t,” he whispers. “It’ll kill you.”
“Me or Reg,” Sirius says, and his voice is like iron. “It’s always us in the end.”
Remus doesn’t say anything. Sirius looks beautiful - he always does, even soaked by the rain and covered in blood, lit up by the dim light of the flames. He presses his ribs gingerly and winces - Remus curses, his hand flying to his wand.
“Let me - “ he starts. The incantation falls easily from his lips; Sirius lets out a long sigh, his body loosening ever so slightly.
“What will you do?” Remus asks, his voice catching on the last word, trying to imagine Sirius behind a silver mask. “Will you run?”
“I don’t know.” Sirius cracks a bitter smile. “Pretty shitty birthday.”
Remus nods, his heart breaking. Sirius lets out a long breath; eyes fluttering shut.
“I’m tired, Re,” he whispers.
“Sleep,” Remus tells him. “I’ll be here.”
