"I keep having dreams about him," she says, hands rubbing small circles on her swollen stomach.
Remus says nothing in response. He is folding the clothes Andromeda has left at the end of their bed, placing them into drawers methodically.
Tonks is used to this. The one-sided conversations. He would rather say nothing at all than voice his fears. Not here, anyway. Not in the cramped room they share, where there is barely enough space for the two of them plus bump. Definitely not enough room for panic and sharp words and what ifs. She knows how he feels, of course – "My kind do not breed. He will be like me, he will be a beast." – but she has told him time and time again that it does not matter.
"He always has your eyes." Her voice is musing, thoughts drifting out of her mouth and into the room of their own accord. Part of her wants to evoke some response from him; another part of her fears the argument she will not have again. "I hope he looks like you."
Again, Remus says nothing. Instead, he pairs the stray socks in the laundry pile. Tonks watches him. How his movements become more agitated. He drops a single black sock and curses under his breath as he reaches down to snatch it up.
"Remus," Tonks says, grunting as she pulls herself up into a half-sitting position. "Talk to me."
"What?" he snaps. "There's nothing I can say that I haven't already said."
Tonks waits. The hand resting on her bump rises as she takes a slow, deep breath and buries the frustration rising in her. She's had so much practice with this now, and she knows having the same argument over and over is good for no one, especially the baby. She knows that Remus thinks so, too. So she waits. And breathes. And stares at nothing in particular.
Remus exhales long and low, rubbing his hands across his unshaven chin. "I'm sorry," he says after a moment has passed.
"I know." She reaches a hand out for him to pull her up. His meanders around the edge of the bed awkwardly, all limbs, and pulls Tonks to her feet with a smirk on his face.
"You know, I never thought I'd see you asking for help so unabashedly."
"It's either that or stay beached," she says, shuffling towards the floor length mirror perched in the corner of the room. "I'm not used to being – I don't know – stuck. In my own body."
In the mirror, she sees Remus shuffle, eyes downcast. "Oh – no, I didn't mean – "
"I know."
"I'm just used to changing this and that and well…" She gestures to the large swell of her stomach, protruding proudly from beneath her woolly jumper. "I can't change this." She tugs at the end of the jumper, and sighs.
"I think you look wonderful," Remus offers, sidling up behind her and slipping his arms around her. He rests his head on her shoulder and frames the bump with his large hands.
"I'm the size of a small house," Tonks groans. Remus chuckles and presses a kiss to her neck.
"No, darling, you look perfectly small and slim. A house? Never," Tonks says mockingly, scowling at Remus's smirk in the mirror.
"I don't know," Remus says slowly. He furrows his brow as if he's thinking hard as he spins her around to face him. His eyes sparkle with amusement. "Technically, you have an occupant."
"You are terrible at this," Tonks says flatly.
"You even have a doorbell," he teases, poking her protruding belly button through the wool of her jumper.
"If you do that again, Merlin help me – "
"You know what's so much better than a house, though?" Remus murmurs, wrapping his arms around her once more. "A home. That's what you are. Home."
Tonks raises an eyebrow at him in confusion. "I'm… home."
"You keep our baby warm and safe," he explains, his voice softening. "You're the best home he's ever going to have."
She lets herself lean into him, her aching body relaxing against his comforting frame. "I take it back," she says. "You're not terrible. You pulled it back there at the end. Excellent cover-up, Lupin."
His face breaks into a toothy grin. "I did, didn't I?"
She slaps him lightly on the arm, rolling her eyes.
"I meant it though," he says, and his voice is soft again. His eyes, his kind, warm eyes, are staring into her own. The same eyes she imagines in their son's chubby face. "Not just for the baby. For me, too." He tucks a strand of bubblegum pink hair behind her ear and smiles. "I know this isn't ideal. The timing, the war. Your mother has been very kind to let us stay here, and I appreciate that kindness, but this," he gestures broadly around the tiny room with the once rich mahogany furniture that has seen better days, and the bed that creaks and groans even more than Tonks herself, "is not quite the first home I had imagined for us. For our family."
"We'll find somewhere soon," she says hurriedly, "when the baby is born, when the war ends. A nice cottage. With a garden, and – "
"That's just the thing though," Remus interrupts. "I don't mind."
Tonks blinks. "But you said – "
"I know what I said." The look on his face is not one Remus normally wears so openly; he is looking at her with such tenderness, such love. Tonks feels a blush blossoming across her face, but a warmth blooms in her chest. "I'm sure we'll find somewhere wonderful. With a garden. And a white picket fence. Whatever you want. But none of that matters," he says, "as long as you're here with me. When I have you, I have everything I need."
"Fatherhood has made you sappy," Tonks teases, but there are tears threatening in her voice so it loses some of its mocking edge. She blinks rapidly, cursing the messy pregnancy hormones that have softened her. She shakes away thoughts of weakness.
"No," Remus says, "you made me sappy. When I'm out there, at the Order meetings, or doing Merlin knows what stupid or dangerous thing that needs to be done to make things better for this little one," he says, pressing his hand to the side of her bump once more, "do you know what I'm thinking about? To get me through the day?"
"What?" she asks, though it comes out as the barest breath.
"You," he says simply. "Holding you. Your smell. The line of your neck. The way you run your fingers down my back when you can't sleep. Wondering what colour your hair will be when I get home."
Tonks' eyes begin to prickle, tears falling down her reddened cheeks.
"And when I get back here, whether it's been hours or days, you're the first thing I want to see. And do you know what I think when I see you? Wow, I think. It's so good to be home. That's you. Not this house or even this room. You are home to me. And I would be utterly lost without you."
"I'm not going anywhere, Remus." She winds her arms up around his neck, rising carefully onto her tiptoes.
"I know," he says, with a look of pure wonder on his face. "And I still can't wrap my head around it."
"I'm here," she says, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "I will always be here." Another kiss. "You couldn't get rid of me if you tried." One more. His arms snake tighter around her, though they are both aware of the heavy weight of the bump between them. "And I'll remind you," Tonks says, "you did try."
Remus chuckles low in his throat. "I knew even then."
"Knew what?" she asks, her voice breaking.
"That I would fall maddeningly, hopelessly in love with you."
Tonks sniffles, the tears coming in earnest now. She lets go of Remus' neck and wipes furiously at her face with the scratchy wool of her jumper sleeves. "Oh, you bloody horrible man," she chokes, "making a pregnant woman cry."
Remus sighs, a smile playing on his lips. "I'm sorry. I do hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me." He bends down and kisses her tear stained cheek.
"I'll think about it," she says, but she is already leaning up to kiss him right back.
Written for QL using prompts 7. evoke, 14. rich and 13. "It's so good to be home." and the character Nymphadora Tonks.