Remus hates thunderstorms.

It's something like a reminder to the battle that's always inside of him.

The lightning flashes, just like the wolf. Blinding and jagged, crooked and destructive.

And the thunder is always behind it. He's the thunder. Always trying to keep up, but the lightning always beats him.

It tears him inside, clawing through his blood and veins. It tears him outside, leaving scars to remind him of who is in charge, just like the lightning that cuts through the sky.

Yes, a thunderstorm is a perfect match to how he feels. A violent disturbance, a noisy outburst. The wolf is forceful and decisive, the driver. And Remus is in the backseat, only along for the ride.

And there's nothing he can do about it.

Yes, he decides. Remus hates thunderstorms.