Kiana Rovigatti was a head-turner, he had to admit. Her Italian blood gave her pale, creamy skin, full, dark lips, and heavy-lidded eyes. Her eyes were a dusty green, with lashes sweeping her high, porcelain cheekbones. Her curly, chocolate curls tumbled down to her waist in shining masses.

But she was elusive, teasing, witty. She hadn't been put in Ravenclaw for nothing. She knew exactly how to make him turn away with rage and pull him back in like a fish on a reel to lust after her once more. He, Remus Lupin, was seen by the public as a popular, intelligent Prefect, but she made him inexplicably stupid. Oh – why couldn't he have fallen in love with another? He had dreamed for a kind, simple, demure girl, but his heart had obviously chosen her.

Kiana, Kiana, Kiana. The wind swept through the air, calling her hypnotizing name. They were both twenty years of age now, and she came and went, leaving him alone at times.

"Remus, I can't just stay. I need to live, and move, and – and just be free." Kiana was so real, so alive, so flighty, and Remus understood that. So each time she stayed for a night and left the next day. She kissed him, he nodded, said "I'll miss you" and "See you soon".

Every single time.

Until Remus cracked and said: "Kiana, I can't do this. I need someone to hold, someone to stay with me, and," he paused, "and I know you can't do that."

She stared at him and opened her mouth as if to protest, but in the end just nodded slowly.

"So I guess this is it?" Her eyes had a question in them, a pure curiosity that struck Remus' heart.

And he kissed her. This time, both were wild, the sex was needing and ending and wanting and beginning and painful and glorious and everything…

The next morning, she kissed him.

He nodded goodbye.

"I'll miss you?" her lyrical voice was hesitant.

"See you soon. We'll stay friends, yeah?" And she agreed, but both knew it was a lie.

Three months later, the Daily Prophet told him Kiana Rovigatti was dead. He didn't cry, he couldn't cry.

Now he had Nymphadora Tonks. She was the perfect housewife: kind, quirky, stable.

But Kiana was his first love, a part of him. She opened up deeper feelings that he could never feel again. He didn't want to feel them again, without Kiana.

Kiana, Kiana, Kiana. The wind swept through the air.

-End-

So, this was my first ever one-shot! What do you guys think? Be sure to click that button! (you know what I mean, it says REVIEW!) ;)