White was an inspiring colour.
Remus looked at the words on the paper that had not existed until a minute ago. All forcer out from looking at that horrible, large, ugly expanse of whiteness.
They didn't sound right.
He didn't want to do it like this- rushing away in the middle of the night, leaving a note behind for her to find it the morning- but he was too much of a coward to say it to her face. He knew that if he saw the hope leave her eyes once more, his resistance would crumble.
Silently, he placed the folded note on his pillow, next to her head. He looked at the white sheets. The "inspiration" of their problems had started with white. White sheets, white skin… now it would end with a white note. With white emotions. Flat. Empty.
Betrayal.
he had done it again. Betrayed her trust, her love. Something to add to the list of reasons why he didn't deserve her. It was quickly becoming a long list.
He knew he was only hurting himself by lingering. He couldn't even bring himself to kiss her goodbye. He was putting her in more danger, the longer he stayed. So he left.
The darkness outside swallowed him up. A relief, after all that white.
But in the morning, the note was no longer white anymore. Tears stained its surface, bleeding through.
White, thought Tonks, was her least favourite colour. It was even worse than maroon.
White was ugly.
