Build a wall of books between us in our bed,

Repeat, repeat the words that I know we both said

-Backing Your Head, Tegan and Sara

The early morning sunshine continued to shine through my window despite my ill thoughts toward it. It burned my eyes stubbornly and forced me to finally crack them open only to snap them shut a moment later. Bright light first thing in the morning was not good. Thankfully someone drew the curtains and I was once again engulfed in beautiful darkness. My thanks were muffled by the pillows, but he got the gist of it.

"You're welcome, sleeping beauty. Well," he contemplated for a moment, "maybe not so much of a beauty." I threw a pillow at his general direction and heard him laugh before snuggling up next to me.

"You do realize it's past noon," he said softly.

"It's the weekend, we have no homework and I am in a very comfortable bed with an extremely handsome man. Excuse me for not wanting to ruin the moment." Slowly, as I opened my eyes, he came into focus. I'd never seen his eyes so warm as that moment, nor had I ever seen him so relaxed. His hair flopped into his eyes in a charming way, and I knew today would be the day it was going to happen. I think he knew it too, judging by he content smile.

"We really must thank James for giving us this place." He said after sinking lower into the pillowy abyss.

"Don't forget Lily. But I'm sure together they'll manage to forget about us." I smiled at the thought. Finally, after seven years, she'd given into him and accepted that she felt exactly the same way. Beside me, Remus laughed.

"I can only imagine," he said before slipping into a companionable silence. He turned to face me and put a hand on my cheek. "You're beautiful," he mused mostly to himself. He had the habit of doing that a lot since we started dating a year and a half ago. Every so often he'd stop and just look at me. When I asked him what he was thinking about he always said he was wondering how he'd managed to someone as perfect as me. I'd laughed at the idea of me being perfect, but swelled with pride nonetheless.

"You're very handsome like this," I replied truthfully. His hair was messy with sleep and his constant stubble was darker than usual. Out of his uniform, he wore a t-shirt and boxers. I smiled when I saw they were the pair he'd gotten as a joke last Christmas. They had been a gift from all of us as a little jab at him. Hundreds of chocolate bars lined the material with "Paws Off!' written across them haphazardly. Knowing we only meant it as a joke, he'd taken them with a good-natured laugh.

I reached out and kissed him, his natural reaction kicking in. He pulled himself closer and wrapped an arm around my waist before returning the embrace eagerly. A hand found the hem of my shirt and slipped under it to tease the nerves along my back. For someone so strong, his fingers were gossamer light as they trailed along the curves of my body, each nerve jumping to attention when he passed over them. I returned the favour by finding his hips and pulling them closer so he now was on top. He grinned down at me roguishly (a look he undoubtedly picked up from Sirius) before diving back for another round. His mouth was wonderful against mine, the sort of perfection you only ever read about in romance novels. But this was reality, my reality, my perfect reality. I twisted a handful of his shirt in my fist and pulled him closer. He groaned as I felt something press against my belly. I felt my face flush and another fire light within me as soon as I realized what that something was. He was seemingly fueled by the same flames, because we were both moving earnestly now, never having enough contact to satisfy a craving we'd never felt before.

Careful not to put too much weight on me, he slipped his hands under my shirt to draw circles along my stomach. His fingers moved boldly upward until they brushed my breasts. I gasped, my hips lifting involuntarily to press against his. He smiled against my lips and held my hips against his. I tugged on the hem of his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, but his hands pushed mine away. Any other time I would have backed off, but with this new burning inside of me, I tried again. He pulled back suddenly, putting far more distance between us than necessary.

"Harper, stop." He said breathless but firm. I groaned and pulled at it again.

"Remus, no." I shot back. "This isn't something that I can just stop."

"You think it's any easier for me to?" He asked, his voice raising.

"How can you do this after what was just going on?" I lifted myself up on my elbows and felt the flush begin to leave me face.

"It isn't as easy as just 'getting over it,' you know." He pushed himself off of me to sit on the end of the bed.

I stayed against the headboard, knowing exactly where this argument would lead. He was covered in scars, that I knew. Not just his arms, but everywhere. That was why as soon as he was able, he kept his cheeks covered with stubble. His legs were marked, the white lines forming an odd pattern across his skin. I knew he was worried about them and extremely self-conscious; it's taken three years of knowing him as a friend before I'd seen the ones on his legs. He thought he was hideous because of them and nothing I ever said could change his mind.

But what he didn't know was that I thought they were beautiful. They weren't noticeable until you really looked for them and when you did, they were simply reminders that he'd survived something most people didn't. I suppose that's why he hated them so much; they reminded him of the attack as well. I'd told him every time I was able to how handsome he was and when he'd shown me the ones of his arms, I'd traced them gently and whispered at how they didn't change how I felt about him. But he had it in his mind that the moment I saw the scars on his torso, I'd go running for the hills.

"Do you not listen to me? I've told you time and time again that they don't matter." I pleaded.

"They matter to me!" He yelled back, throwing himself from the bed and storming out of the room. I winced as the door slammed. So much for a romantic day together, I thought bitterly. How many times had we been down this road before? A hundred times, a thousand? Was it worth it anymore?

I knew the answer as soon as I'd thought the question. Of course it was worth every fight, every broken heart and every lonely night just to be with someone so amazingly considerate and kind, who always knew how to comfort me. But every broken heart and lonely night was because he never allowed me to get physically close to him. I know that a physical relationship isn't a functional one, but a body needs things, especially at this time in my life. But every time we got close, he'd carefully remove my hands and unlatch himself before leaving me alone for the rest of the day. Did he not trust me? The very idea of it made my chest ache. We'd only been dating for just over a year, but when we got together, we both knew this was it. This was the sort of love people spent their whole lives searching for and we'd been lucky enough to find it this early. I trusted him completely and thought he felt the same. What if he didn't? It hurt to think about it, to know that after all this time and everything we'd been through together, he didn't trust me enough to look past something so trivial. Feeling suddenly hollow, I began to weep.

The sun was low in the sky before we spoke again. I'd spent the day in the borrowed room, tucked up in the sheets while my mind spun circles around itself in an attempt to figure out why Remus didn't trust me. Had I said something? My tears had long ago dried, but my red eyes were still evident. I kept thinking the same things over again until every thing I thought felt like a useless jumble of words. I stood and wrapped myself in one of the soft red blankets before walking slowly over to the other bedroom. The only indicator that he was there was the firmly shut door and the dent in the wood where he'd punched it. I touched the splintered wood, guilty that I'd been the reason for the destruction. Just as my fingers felt the sharp splinters, the door flew open and my hand was hovering by Remus's cheek. We looked at each other for a moment, and a silent apology was made. He saw my red rimmed eyes and pulled me to him. His arms were warm as they held me. I heard the door click shut and my heart sank. One question pressed against my lips, wanting to be asked, but I knew it could ruin things if if spilled. I buried my head into his chest and asked it into the cotton.

"What?' he asked and lifted my head. I looked away from his eyes as I spoke.

"Do you not trust me?" My voice sounded far too weak to my own ears, too fragile. I felt like I was on the verge of tears again after he didn't reply. The silence hung heavily in the air, the lack of sound piercing my heart. That was it, then. He didn't trust me. It hurt to know I'd put so much blind faith into him but he didn't return it. I struggled to get out of his embrace, but he held me firm against his chest. I fought harder, but he held me tight.

"Harper, stop." He said for the second time that day. But this time his voice was gentle. He waited until I met his gaze to speak. "How could you think that?" He swallowed and put a hand on my cheek. "I love you more than anything. What would make you doubt that?" I looked down guiltily and he sighed and led me to the bed. We sat down side by side on the edge of it as Remus rubbed his face.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Harper. Not at all, you have to know that. But when people see me, all they see is a monster with these ugly scars. Even James stared when we first met. And then they ask how I got them." I knew he hated talking about the attack, even with his best friends. He turned to face me, his eyes dark and worried as they held mine. "You've gone so long treating me like a human being and I'm afraid that you'll see them and realize what a monster I am and leave. It's easy to hear about beasts, but to actually see one is entirely different. I couldn't bear it if you left." His shoulders fell and he dropped his eyes. I slid closer and held his face. His lashes were wet with unshed tears and I knew mine were as well.

"I will never leave you. Believe that, please. Nothing you could ever do would change how I feel about you." I kissed him gently, both of us still shaken from the morning and more than a little vulnerable. He ran a hand through my hair and held me close to him, his movement slow and gentle as he laid me down on the sheets. The insistent fire that had been there that morning was missing, and instead a tender warmth filled its place. Remus moved the blanket from my grasp and traced my curves with soft caresses. His kissed my neck and made his way to my shoulder, leaving a trail of kissing along my skin. My hands went to his shirt and we both tensed. I saw his eyes flash with sudden fear, but he shut them and nodded. I lifted the white cotton up and over his head, exposing his chest for the first time. It was toned without being absurd and he had the softest pale skin I'd ever seen. I didn't notice the scars at first, but once I did, they seemed to flood my vision. Three long ones ran the length of his torso, another slash from one hip to the other. They had gone white with time, but they were still firmer to the touch than the rest of his skin. I ran my fingers across the longest one, feeling him shiver. His eyes were still closed when my searching fingers found the bite mark at his waist. He tensed as I pressed my hand against the long-healed wound. It was bigger than my hand and I could only imagine how much he had suffered. I slowly realized that every one of these scars was the result of serious pain, either from a bad transformation or the first attack. My hands shook as I reached up to touch his cheek. I saw the scars there as well, the ones he hide so well beneath his stubble. They ran along his jaw, each melding with the next until they resembled the jagged path of lightning.

"I'm so sorry," I said quietly, rubbing my thumb over his rough cheek. His eyes opened and he blinked a few times to make sure I was still there. He nodded and bent his head down to kiss me. Without telling them to, my hands went to his back where I felt more welts and scars. They made me want to weep for him, for all the pain he'd been through and the pain he still had to endure every full moon. I held onto him tighter and buried my head into his shoulder. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear and kissed me between each word.

I couldn't begin to imagine what he'd went through; I didn't want to. But I wanted to help him move on from that pain. I knew it would mean many long nights in the Infirmary and many more lonely ones, but I didn't care.

"I love you," he said softly, his voice as gentle as his body moving against mine.

"I love you, too. And I'll always be here." Above me, he smiled and kissed me for the hundredth time that night.

There it is. I wrote this once day and thought it was cute. I had the idea running around in my head for a few days. I don't know if this will become a full fledged story, but it might.

I'd love to know what you think, so drop me a line. Anything is accepted, trust me.

Thank you for reading

- BloomingDahlia