Author's Note: I couldn't help but write another Remus/Tonks. I hope I got their characters right... This piece fits in with my other story "Confessions" but both can be read alone. Thank you for reading, any reviews would be appreciated, but please don't be too harsh. I hope you enjoy!
As soon as McGonagall and Harry leave, she gets up and follows suit without a word to anyone, making a concentrated effort not to trip on her way to the door – she hardly needs to embarrass herself any further.
After a few seconds of deliberation, he gets up and goes after her, and even though no one speaks he can see Molly's eyes on him, hopeful and encouraging.
He catches up to her when she's just left the castle. "Nymphadora!"
She whirls around, her dishevelled appearance highlighted by the light that spills from the open doors. "Don't call me that!" Her hair flashes red, and for the slightest second everything could be back to normal.
"Okay, I'm sorry."
"No you're not, don't even bother with that. But I am. I'm sorry for embarrassing you like that in front of everyone."
"You didn't embarrass me," he says, descending the steps to stand before her. The gentleness of his tone infuriates her – he's always trying to protect her, but why can't he see that she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself?
"I humiliated myself then!" Her shout is jagged as the words force their way through the lump forming in her throat.
"No," he whispers, and he can't help but embrace her, and she can't help but hug him back.
There's a desperate kind of vulnerability to the both of them, like they're two lonely ships sailing the turbulent sea of life. He could be her anchor and she could be his, if only they'd let themselves accept it.
"Don't you dare, Remus. Don't – you – dare!" She's surprised by the force of her voice, and how bitter it sounds to her own ears. For a second she's consumed by fury and she hates this man, hates him with a passion that's equal to her love.
As quickly as it appeared, it's gone, and she's sensible enough to acknowledge that she couldn't hate him so much if she hadn't loved him first. Love and hate aren't the polar opposites they appear – there's so much hurt and so much love and they mix somewhere in the middle to create this toxicity that makes her want to push everyone away, especially him. Time and acceptance dull the intensity of these feelings, - it is possible to sit through them, and clarity will return soon enough.
Unfortunately, Tonks has never been one for waiting, especially when she knows – she knows, goddamnit! – that they would both be happier if only he wasn't so stubborn.
She takes a step away from him, steeling herself for what she has to say. "You know what, Remus? I can't do this anymore. I don't know what you expect to happen – you have to give in eventually. You've told me to move on, but you don't seem to get it. There is no moving on from this! I can't move on from you, but at the same time I can't keep fighting a pointless battle. I don't know what to do anymore. I just…don't know."
He looks as helpless as she feels, and the sight of his shoulders slumped in defeat makes her want to take back her words immediately, but she manages to restrain herself.
"Dumbledore just died," he says slowly, "yet as incomprehensible as that is, all I want right now is for you to be okay."
"And?"
"And what, Dora? We can't be together, I won't do that to you, I won't let you burden yourself with me."
"As a matter of fact, we could, if you weren't so determined to think up every excuse under the sun to prove otherwise. And how about you let me decide what I want to 'burden' myself with for once? You say you want to protect me, but you're destroying me a little more every day. Anyway, like I said, it's up to you now."
With that she walks away, and it takes a massive effort to stop her looking back.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to just…leave like that. He was supposed to be the one leaving, that's how it was always was, because Remus figured that it's safer to isolate yourself deliberately than to make an effort and feel isolated anyway. But Tonks knows that he believes that if you leave first, then you're not being left, and maybe it won't hurt quite so much. There's a flaw in that plan – maybe no one else can abandon you, but you're always abandoning yourself. She won't let him destroy himself, not anymore. She can't let him destroy her, either.
He wants to run after her, tell her he loves her and spend the rest of his life with her, lycanthropy be damned, but some residual pride and fear holds him back. He's not ready to trust himself that much, not yet.
