WOLFSTAR AND SPRING/HEADCOUNTS
For them, March is a delicate pink. It's the morning when Sirius wakes up first and just watches Remus still sleeping with his hand under his cheek. The light outside the window is particularly soft, and Remus's face has none of the nightmares that sometimes come at night. Sirius thinks: "That's it. This is what peace looks like." March is about wet kisses. Because it's either raining or snowing outside, or just the air is such that you want to snuggle closer and breathe each other. They walk home, wet and cold, and the first thing Sirius does after closing the door is pull Remus by the collar of his jacket and kiss him. Wet, greedy, as if he hadn't seen it in forever, even though it had only been an hour. Remus laughs into the kiss and says: "You're going to strangle me." Sirius isn't listening.
March is about smiles. Not the big, loud ones that Sirius gives to the world. But the small, quiet ones, just for Remus. When they're sitting in the kitchen with cups of tea, watching the rain drip from the roof outside. When Remus suddenly looks up from his book and catches Sirius's eye, and they both smile, not knowing why. It's just because they have each other. March is about hugs. Long, warm, and uneventful. On the couch, when Sirius lays his head on Remus's lap and falls asleep with his fingers running through Sirius's hair. In the kitchen, when Sirius comes up behind Remus, wraps his arms around his waist, and nuzzles his nose into Remus's shoulder. In bed, when one of them wakes up in the middle of the night and reaches out to the other, just to make sure they're still there.
March is a tenderness that does not need to be explained. This is when Sirius buys tulips for nothing because they are orange and reminded him of Remus' eyes. When Remus leaves a cup of tea on the bedside table, knowing that Sirius will wake up in five minutes and will be looking for her blindly. When they go out for a walk in the evening, and Sirius suddenly stops in the middle of the street, turns Remus around by the hand and kisses his forehead. Just like that. Because it can. Because they are. March is about hope. About the fact that after the coldest winter, you can thaw out. That even if something hurts and breaks inside, there's someone who can warm you up. That they have time. That they're not in a hurry. That they can just be, and that's enough. In March, the world becomes a little softer. And so do they.