Prompt: broken
OMG I love this pairing. I can't even explain.
"How strange that I move to the voice of the moon,
love ringing out of tune."
~Tides-As Cities Burn~
Shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't.
It's a guilty but always silent mantra playing in your mind like a skipping record, the needle stuck in the scratches spelling out infidelity.
Shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't.
But you do anyway.
He doesn't meet your eyes at first. He studies his feet as he digs them into the sand, and you are conscious of the fact that she's left the light on for you again. It's a faint reminder in the distance that you have someone waiting for you. Someone else.
But she doesn't understand and you don't know how to explain to her that she's not what you need. And no matter how hard you try to do the right thing, it will always be Remus.
Because he's there, coming back around like clockwork, predictable like each phase of the moon. He comes to you with the tide, and you know you can count on him to crash against your shoreline with desperate kisses and weary sighs and moonlight burning your pale, pale skin. He knows your highs and lows, that some phases are better than others, and when you're falling apart at the seams, he holds you together because he knows what it's like to be so broken, so foolish, so inhuman.
Neither of you have been very good at love and you never, ever say it, and you'd rather not give whatever this is a name. All you know is that you need it. It's about giving and taking and making half-hearted apologies because you really shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't but in his arms it's hard to remember why.
"Bill," he says, and the scratches grow deeper, carving your sin into your bones, and you don't care. This record was ruined a long time ago. "Don't go in yet. Stay just a little longer."
Just a little longer.
Just a little longer and maybe she'll finally turn the light off.
Just a little longer and maybe you'll forget about what you shouldn't do.