Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related indicia belong to JK Rowling and company. I am not JK Rowling. This work is a piece of fan fiction and no part of any story other than one written for fun. I own nothing in this document. No money is being made from this.
I Don't Want to Fall Asleep
I would lie awake at night at watch him sleep. I would turn from the door some nights, waiting to feel him slide into bed with me and brush the red hair from my neck and place a gentle kiss. I found myself sleeping on the same side of the bed and following the same routine I did before he died.
Sometimes I would be unable to sleep, so he would sing to me until I finally succumbed to sleep. Those are the moments you never forget. He would always sing the same song. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy…" I would find myself singing that at night when sleep was impossible. I usually couldn't finish the song, as tears would consume me.
"You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine,
You make me happy,
When skies are gray,
You'll never know, dear,
How much I love you,
Please don't take my sunshine away."
He would tell me it was okay, that no one was going to take him away from me. I realised he couldn't make a promise like that, but I believed him.
It's raining tonight. I find myself waiting for him to call my name from downstairs. He became even more protective of me when we married, though he knows I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I guess he just didn't want to lose me.
His wardrobe is still full of his patched clothes and the battered briefcase that still bears his name.
Pictures around the room of our wedding day, of family, of our holidays, of our life, remind me of his face. There are scars from where he sometimes scratched himself and where I had to put a salve before it would heal properly that show in every picture. There are pictures of his life before me, and mine before him, though now I can barely remember what my life was like before we met. I cannot really say that I had lived before him.
He was an artist in all he did. He painted, wrote, and would tell me stories of damsels and monsters. He thought himself a monster from his stories, but I knew it was not true.
I don't want to fall asleep anymore because I know that when I wake up, Remus will not be there.