He was alone in his bed in the darkness. Exhausted, Molly had sent him to bed with a sleeping potion after a cup of tea.
The sleeping potion sat unopened on the desk, his folded clothes hung neatly over the chair. The blankets were dragged severely up to his chin, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been, what he had allowed to happen between he and Tonks. He should have learnt by now. As if the last woman wasn't enough of a bitter lesson.
As if she wasn't the mallet that hammered that last brick into the mortar of the wall around his heart.
-
Remus had been all alone for the first time in his life. James and Lily were taken from him. Sirius was in prison. Peter, the world believed dead. He had given up hope on life. But he met a woman in the bar he frequented. She showed him that drinking himself dead was no good. She showed him how to laugh again. She showed him how to forget.
But he could not forget always, not entirely.
Always he longed for one more kiss, to allow himself to let her touch linger. Yet she did not know what he was, and he felt like a scared little boy again, keeping a dirty secret from his friend, fearing rejection if she knew. So when she reached for the clasp of his robes, he would push her away. When he reached to run his fingers through her hair, he would push her away. And finally, he had pushed too far, to the point where he had no choice but to explain himself, or lose her.
He thought he would have lost her because of the truth. But she had stared at him, tears in her eyes, sliding down her cheeks, her body sliding down the wall of his apartment. He turned away from her, went to the bathroom, not wanting to watch her leave him. Instead, he watched his reflection in the mirror - watched his hands grip the basin, the knuckles white. Almost, he thought he saw the wolf's eyes look out at him, the wolf's claws mark the porcelain. He knew he was a monster, and now she was going to leave, run away, save herself.
When she came to him, and held him without reservation, he almost believed that once more, he knew someone who would accept him for what he was. It was a struggle, yet he knew all relationships were. For weeks, they would laugh together, only for one of them to remember, and the laughter to die away again, leaving behind an awkward silence. Until finally they leaned together in the midst of their uninterrupted laughter, and when it died away it wasn't from remembering that horrible thing, but from wonder at each other.
Now, Remus didn't push her away when she reached for the clasp of his robes. He didn't push her away when he reached for her, only pulling her closer to him, pulling the elastic in her hair, allowing it all to fall around her shoulders. And when they lay down in his bed, trembling, he felt the weeks of uncertainty melt away, and pulled her entire body to him, over, raising his to cover her. And when he whispered her name and nipped, sucked gently at her neck, she pushed him back into the sheets.
And continued to rise. There were tears in her eyes, glistening in the near darkness, and her voice cracked. "Remus. I can't do this." She pulled her robes over her head. "I'm sorry."
And was gone.
-
Alone, Remus Lupin lay in his bed at Grimmauld Place, and cursed himself for the tears that ran down the sides of his face and into his hair and ears. He knew he should be over her, over Lily and James, over Sirius, over poor, stupid Peter, over what he did with Tonks, over everything. And yet it hurt, and in his moment of sickness and weakness and knowing he was quite alone, and most likely always would be, he cried.
When the door creaked open, he started, and guiltily wiped at his eyes. He looked over, seeing Tonks' face illuminated by the light at the tip of her wand. "Remus?" She said softly, standing on the threshold, one hand on the door handle.
"Tonks." Remus said, his traitorous voice cracking. He turned to face the wall, hoping she would take it as a signal to go away. He thought with horror that he was naked under the sheets.
"Have you been... crying?"
"No." He closed his eyes as he heard her come in, closing the door behind her.
"Nox," she whispered, and the light behind Remus' eyelids disappeared. He opened them again, wishing she would just leave him be, that she would stay away from him, the monster.
He felt the covers at his back peeled away from him, and her weight settled in beside him. Tentatively, she put a hand on his arm, a foot on his leg. She was wearing socks beneath her pyjama pants. Remus' whole body was tense. His jaw ached with it. His body was responding in ways he wished it wouldn't. Finally she took her foot away, but her hand stayed. After a time he heard her breathing even out, and thought with horror that she wasn't going to be leaving until morning.
He tried to smother the traitorous thought that told him that was good.
-
He woke up in her arms.
The sun was just starting to send slices of light through the window, and when consciousness first touched him, he felt warm and content. The smell of warmed woman and lavender filled his world, the flannel of her pyjama shirt grazed his lips. The hush of her breathing brushed across his face again and again.
It had been a terribly long time since he had woken up next to a woman.
The wolf snuffled through Remus' nose, lifting his head to nuzzle in at the female's neck. Then he retreated back into Remus, and the man could feel the wolf wrapping his mental tail around himself. Content.
As he woke bit by bit, he realised his leg was covering both of her's, protecting, claiming, and his hand was resting on one of her breasts. She was soft and warm, and beautiful, and purely and simply woman. His body was finding it harder and harder to ignore that fact. His hand, almost of its own will, increased its pressure slightly, then released slowly. Tonks mewled quietly, and shifted in her sleep. Her leg brushed unwittingly against Remus' thighs and groin, and his breath hitched in his throat, his eyes caught on her face. But no, she was asleep. Remus slowly extracted himself from her body, shifting into the cold area of the sheets.
He shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't be doing this. He couldn't believe what his hand had done, how his leg was over hers, the way other parts of him had reacted. He was acutely aware he was wearing no clothes underneath the sheets. He thought she must have known that when she came to his room last night. 'She doesn't know what she's doing,' he thought to himself, watching her. 'Moony, you fool, you should have sent her away!'
He wriggled further away from her, pressing his body tight against itself, trying to get as much distance between the two of them as he possibly could. He couldn't believe the situation she had put them in - the situation he had allowed himself to enter. Just as he was about to get out of the bed and snag his clothing, the young witch seemed to rouse slightly, rolling towards him and flopping an arm over his body with a sleepy sigh of, "Remus," escaping her throat.
Remus was horrified. His body tensed, he held his breath as he considered what to do. After much panic and self chastising, he began to push her gently onto her back and away from him. But her arm tensed and he found himself unable to stop the both of them rolling. He cursed breathlessly, wondering what to do now. His body continued to betray his thoughts. Tonks yawned beneath him. "Wotcher," she murmured, cracking an eye open.
Remus jumped away from her, nearly falling out of the bed in the process. Tonks opened wide eyes, awake suddenly. "What? What is it? Remus?" This last she said when he didn't reply.
"Tonks..." He said unsteadily. She smiled disarmingly at him and shuffled closer to him. He held his arms away from her as if he couldn't trust them. He indeed felt that he couldn't.
"I hope you don't mind," she drawled, snuggling to his chest. "I'm a bed hog."
Remus took his shaking arms and uncertainly pushed at her. "Please. Tonks. No." He choked, feeling that all too familiar shroud descend over him. He wished she would leave him to his own misery. He wished she had the sense to not try and get involved with a monster. He wished she wouldn't look at him and smile like she did. He wished he never heard her utter the words, "Yes, Remus. Yes." In a slow, husky voice, moving her lips towards his face. He wished...
He pushed again. "Please, Tonks," he begged. "If you kiss me," he took a deep, shuddering breath, "I won't be able to stop. And we will both be thrown into Azkaban." He was shaking, fighting back tears. He wouldn't cry in front of her.
"Remus," her voice soothed, her fingertips coming to his face. "It's alright. It will be alright. I... love you, Remus." His eyes shuddered closed, the shroud squeezed his chest. His walls contained his heart. 'No,' he thought. 'No.' But Tonks held him closer, murmuring in his ear, "It will be alright."
'No,' he kept thinking. He couldn't breathe. 'No.' And then, "No, Tonks." He pushed her away, firmly, holding her back by her shoulders. His eyes skated away from her's - looking anywhere but at her.
For an eternity it didn't seem she was breathing. Then, in one deep shuddering intake of air, she set her chin firmly and rose from the bed. "I see." Her voice wobbled, and she fled from his room.
Remus was left staring at his hands, a monster's hands, knowing she did not see at all, and that no one ever would.