'What are you thinking about?'
It was dark, so Remus felt safe rolling his eyes. Why did people always ask that? 'You, of course.'
'That's sweet. Night.'
Remus liked to watch Tonks sleep. She took her natural form, for one thing, which was comforting. And she snored, which was reassuring. He suspected that he did too, and so it was nice not to have to feel bad about it.
Of course, when he asked he she said he didn't snore, but then he said the same of her.
When he was sure she was asleep he got up and crept downstairs. It was a couple of days until full moon, and while he didn't need to look out of the window to know that, he always did anyway.
He'd never worked out how he felt about the moon. When he looked at it he felt thousands of years of human history - of wearing clothes and keeping his elbows off the table – fade away, until he might as well be standing naked in the snow, just him and his instincts. Blood and sex.
He felt her hands from behind him, on his waist.
'I thought you were asleep.'
'I was, but I missed you.'
He smiled, and turned to kiss her. The moonlight shone on her face and he paused for a moment. Blood and sex. 'The moon.'
'Huh?'
'It's something they always say, isn't it, that women and the moon are linked, but I didn't get it until now. Until you.'
'I thought you were afraid of the moon.'
'Hell, when it comes to that I'm afraid of you. What you do to me. But I'll take being naked in the snow over being snug in front of the fire any day.'
'Naked in the snow?'
'Metaphorically. '
'Right. Naked in the snow, wearing pyjamas, socks, slippers and a dressing gown.'
He shrugged. 'I'm set in my ways.'
He kissed her, and civilisation fell away around them.