I have always liked the moon. The way it looks, I mean. It's a beautiful thing. Of course, being a werewolf makes it hard to appreciate the beauty of the moon, but when I was very young I used to stare up at the night sky for hours on end. I still do, on occasion . . .
"Remus?"
I turned away from the window to face the woman behind me. Her name was Vivian, and she loved me. But she didn't know me.
"Yes, Viv?"
"What are you doing? You've been staring out the window for an hour now. Is something wrong?"
I looked out at the almost-full moon. "Of course not, love. I'm just looking at the moon." Oh yes, I'm fine, just fine, I thought. Fine except for the fact that I'll be a werewolf tomorrow night at this time and I don't know how to tell you that.
"Why are you looking at the moon?" she asked. I thought I saw a shadow cross her face, and wondered for one wild moment if she knew.
"Because it's beautiful," I said. "Like you." She came to me then, sat down on my lap and nestled her head against my chest.
"Oh, Remus," she sighed.
"Yes, Viv?"
"It's nothing," she said quickly. "Just that - nothing." She stood up. "I think I'll go to bed now. Are you coming?"
"In a while." I turned back to the window. She stared at the back of my head for a moment, then abruptly turned and went off to the bedroom.
I had been living with Vivian for a little over six months. Six times I had turned into a werewolf, and each time she had excepted my excuses and said nothing about the fact that I was never gone except during the full moon, and then without fail.
How does one tell the person they love that they are a monster? I wondered. I certainly had no idea. I wished there was someone I could ask, or a dictionary or book of quotes that I could consult. Perhaps someone should write a book for werewolves, about how to get through life and deal with the prejudice against our kind. Perhaps I'll write that book someday.
But these thoughts were useless. I swallowed, and sighed, and went to bed knowing that this would be another month when I would make my excuses and disappear, and keep the truth locked away were none could find it.
My transformation went remarkably smoothly that time. I returned rather earlier than usual, eager to see Vivian again.
But she was not there, nor did she show up that night. By the next afternoon, I was sick with fear. I was sure that she knew what I was, and had left me.
She showed up the morning after, drawn and pale and looking generally somewhat sickly. She practically fell into my arms when I rushed to hold her.
"Oh, Remus," she groaned.
"What is it?" I asked quickly. "What happened? Are you all right?" We collapsed onto the couch, and she turned her face to my shoulder. I felt her shaking with suppressed sobs. I raised her face to mine.
"What's wrong, Vivian? Tell me what it is, or I shall find out myself."
She groaned again. "All right, Remus, but first will you promise me that you will never leave me, no matter what you may find out about me?" As I made to answer she said quickly, "No, don't answer that. You should have the freedom to walk away from me after I tell you this."
"Tell me what?" I swear I never saw it coming.
"I'm a werewolf." Her voice was muffled against my chest.
"What?" My voice rose in surprise. She turned dull eyes to my face, and swallowed. "No, I heard you," I said quickly. "It's just - I never expected - "
"I won't hold it against you if you leave me," she said dully.
"No more than I would if you left me," I said, smiling.
"Why would I leave you? Why are you smiling?"
"Because, my dear, we share the same affliction. Didn't you guess? No, I suppose not. After all, I never suspected it of you."
She stared at me, her mouth open.
"You - " she spluttered. "You too? I - " She stopped, and her face broke out into a radiant smile. "I don't know what to say - I - "
"Don't say anything."
"I won't, then." She put her arms around my neck, turned her face up, and kissed me.