The Month Before
Summary: A shamefully short little melancholy vignette about Remus Lupin's first kiss. Could be sad, could be happy. You decide.
It would have been misery.
The constant chatter of rushing water pounding against thin, rattling windows. Howling winds and muffled thunderings of suppressed rage. It wasn't unfamiliar.
I'd felt it before. But now it seemed the sky was crying without me.
It would have been misery. The pain, the exhaustion, the rain slowly leaking through the roof of the abandoned shack – bringing me back to consciousness after nearly meeting sleep with every single drop.
But it wasn't.
It was the storm itself, and the aftermath of my transformation. I felt nothing. I felt everything.
It was the distant crack of warning, and that blinding flash of lightning in which I felt as if, for the smallest fleeting moment, I could almost see a better world.
I remember that night. A distant, foreign time. The month before. Years ago.
Last night.
The moon had almost been full... the pain of that sight all but forgotten as the light of it danced in her hair.
She leaned in to me, a brilliant gleam of trust in her eyes. She saw Remus. Who was I now, remembering her? Lying here on the cold ground – unable to determine whether it was morning yet or not. Was it still me? After this routine of torturous agony - had I changed at all?
Would she see someone else when she saw my eyes?
Another month.
Would it happen again?