A/N : This was written after listening to a French, old song "Géant de Papier", it made me thought about Remus. It's my second attempt to write Remus/Tonks and the first one was a challenge with a young Dora, so every thoughts and reviews are welcome. Thanks RDucky for beta-reading my fic really quickly!
Nymphadora, or better known as Tonks, was asleep on one of the settees at the burrow, the new headquarter of the Order of the Phoenix.
Remus was watching her, rays of the moon illuminating her blond hair, not the gray she wore all week. And for once, the moon was not his enemy; the silver light revealed the true nature of Tonks. When she was sleeping, she was her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Delicate and gorgeous.
She was also shivering. Remus wanted to take the blanket and reset it on her, but he couldn't. He was afraid.
Afraid that a simple touch on the pale skin of her shoulder would make him weak, would make him change his answer. Afraid that the intimacy he was witnessing, for only a few had seen her without metamorphmaging, would change his mind.
He was a strong werewolf who fought death eaters, but he couldn't fight the urge of touching her suave cheek. He wanted more that just that skin's brush, but he couldn't. It was forbidden. Not because she didn't want it, but because he wasn't able to realize that he could love. Remus Lupin couldn't love. He was a werewolf, he was meant to be alone.
He was meant to fight in this stupid war, save the others. His hated 'ability' was good for that, defying evil forces.
But, in front of her sleeping form, he felt just like a powerless human being. He stared at her for a long time, sitting in front of her. He thought about what she had asked that afternoon. The different thoughts were fighting each other. He watched her again.
Her breath was slow, calm. It appeased him. He reached and brushed her cheek with a trembling hand, again. She felt fresh under his fingers.
He was made of paper, and she crumpled him, only being here. He remembered the argument he had with her, when she asked him to be with her.
"Your ability doesn't matter to me," she had said. Tonks had been the only one to call his disorder an ability. And he used the word now, even if he didn't see it as an ability. "Just be with me," she had added.
"No," he had answered.
Now, in front of her huddled, quiet body, he was reconsidering his answer. He wanted to say yes, but his condition didn't allow him.
He had confronted an untamable Sirius and a young James, and he had stood up against them. But sweet Nymphadora was giving him second thoughts about what was right and what was wrong. But, James and Sirius were gone and with her he wouldn't be alone anymore...
He shook his head, there was no way he could say yes. He was a werewolf, he could harm her. He couldn't be with her.
She pouted in her sleep, like she had understood he was refusing her. He wanted to kiss her pout away, and he felt so weak watching her. He did it.
He lightly kissed her, awaking the sleeping beauty. She was puzzled, surely thinking she was dreaming. But she asked her question again in a barely audible murmur, "will you be with me?"
"Yes."
The werewolf was a giant made of paper when he was near her, and she crumbled him.