Simple Equation
In Remus' darkest moments, he wished he'd never replied. Never let his heart race at the beautifully cursive script, hastily etched into the corner of a leaf of parchment, asking a simple 'how are you?'
Remus wished he hadn't kept up the little exchanges in class, hadn't caught his eye on Sirius' at the countless innuendos about wand direction or how to brandish them at someone.
Most of all Remus wished he hadn't spent endless hours telling Sirius all his inner worries, tormented secrets and most earnest vulnerabilities. It was in those moments, Remus fell in love and thought Sirius had too.
Instead, Sirius had collected every piece of information that could hurt Remus the most. Collated and filed every ounce of him, only to pull away.
To stop asking how Remus was when he got home; to only give one word answers when Remus asked; to finally stop speaking altogether, leaving before Remus woke and returning after he was asleep.
Until he didn't.
