Some people (Remus) seem to write best at 2 in the morning. I seem to write best 5 minutes after I lie down to go to sleep. Really, this is why I stick to beta-ing. You don't get the urge to beta 5 minutes after lying down. I was tired! Anyways, this popped into my head like my one and only Snarry story, so I wrote it...and I'm not entirely sure what to do with it. I don't like the last two sentences. But, it's the best way to convey the emotion and tie everything up so, what are you going to do right?
Summary: There were mornings where he would wake up and not remember where he was.
Warnings: Slash. Hints of Lupin/Tonks. Angsty.
Rating: Mmm...let's make this one a T for the hell of it.
Times
There were mornings where he would wake up and not remember where he was. The sound of running water would make him grin and slip quietly out of his bed to surprise his lover. But when he reached the restroom a bright shock of pink rather than black would make reality crash down on him. After standing there slightly shocked, she would finally notice him and greet him in that overly cheery manner. He would nod and move on to fix his nerves a cup of tea.
There was that one morning when she had her natural face on. The long black hair and high cheekbones, the inherited elegance—it made him gasp out loud. He could've sworn He was back until she turned to stare at him with those chocolate brown eyes so unlike His and asked what was wrong. As he passed it off as a "werewolf thing" a funny look crossed her face and it was never clearer that she was not He.
There were times he wanted to scream at her as she tried potions and aphrodisiacs and spells. She spiked his tea with a number of things and always tried to hit him with cheering charms because she wanted him to smile. Really smile, like he did for Him.
Then there were the times she would try and fail to charm her way into his room and bed at night—and above all else, that is what he hated the most.
Those were the times, when he was alone and safe in his bed, away from her, when his entire body would relax. He would stare at the ceiling as memories and ghost whispers would fill his head, and smile. Really smile.
Those were the times when he would let His name be spoken reverently.
Those were the times when Remus would mourn for his loss, his Sirius.
Those were the times Nymphadora would never be allowed to see.