Disclaimer: The usual.
I know there's little use in crying
It's more wide awake and dying then I'm used to
I thought we'd walk these streets together
Now I'm hoping that I'll never have to meet you
Step aside from all this anger
And somewhere in between I can feel you
Ask me should we try again
I'm thinking no
Y'know, it's not what I believe in
It's not what I believe in
Sleep eluded him. He lay on the narrow sagging bed in his rented room and tried not to think of her. He had been back in London for a week, and it was almost as bad as living in the wild with the pack. At least with the pack he'd not had to act civilized.
A handy thing, since he was disinclined to do so. Being a werewolf and a crotchety old prick wasn't bad enough anymore.
Propping himself up on his elbow, he reached over to the bureau and snagged the nearly empty bottle there. He took a long gulp, coughing a little as the whiskey hit his empty stomach.
One good thing about not being at Grimmauld Place was that he no longer had to hide any of his less admirable habits. Another thing was that he no longer had to fear being trampled by a Weasley or worse yet cornered by the Matriarch.
He drank and brooded for the better part of an hour before he decided that he might as well go out.
He dressed in Muggle clothes; dungarees and a jumper with worn elbows, and headed out, his boots thumping on the stairs. Out on the street in the cold night air, he decided he needed another drink.
He was drinking more and more these days, as if he were trying to kill himself slowly. Which would be fine if it'd work.
He had concluded one night not long ago, that he, Remus Lupin, was a right bastard and did not believe in love.
He did not believe in the romance and sweetness dictated by greeting cards and he most certainly did not believe that fucking equaled a lasting attachment.
The situation with Nym--bloody Tonks had caused him a great deal of discomfort and annoyance.
Apparently, she'd been moping about for months now, behaving as if she'd lost her one true.
Part of him was tempted to go find her and tell her to get over it; that it'd been simply a bit of a shag and too much to drink, and he'd not meant anything by it.
Of course being the stupid blighter he was, the rest of him still wanted to track her down and have at her again. Parts of him were insistent about it.
But it wasn't love.
He was mature enough to know the difference between love and lust even if she wasn't.
And the fact that he was avoiding the parts of London that she frequented had nothing to do with that and everything to do with convenience.
That convenience had him taking the long way round the park past the pub he now frequented instead of the Leaky Cauldron. And of course, of course, she was coming out just as he was passing.
He ducked his head and tried to sneak past; telling himself it was only because he didn't want a scene.
"Remus?" Her voice was tentative.
Fucking hell. He stopped, tucking his hands into his pockets and turning to face her.
"Tonks." He greeted her coolly.
"I'd heard you were back." She said. "I was looking for you."
He posed with studied nonchalance. "What for?"
Hurt showed on her pale face. "Can we talk?"
He shrugged. "I suppose. Buy me a pint?"
She glanced around. "Um, can we talk in private? Please?"
Bollocks. He did not want to be alone with her. It wasn't guilt or fear, he told himself, just preference.
"Let's walk." He said. Christ, he needed a drink.
She fell into step beside him, wrapping her arms around herself. The ground crunched icily under their feet.
She'd lost weight, he noticed. And she wasn't even wearing a proper coat.
"I thought you might owl me when you got back." She said quietly.
"No point."
She stumbled, then righted herself. "You've been drinking, haven't you."
Remus shrugged. "What's it to you?"
"Remus." She chided.
"I'm a grown man, Tonks." He said. "If I want to have a drink every once in a while, I will."
She snorted. "It's more than every once in a while. You can lie to yourself if you want, but not to me."
"It isn't your business anyway." He told her.
Her mousy hair was blowing across her face. She shot him a look as she shoved it back. "I love you, Remus. That makes it my business."
"You love me?" He scoffed, ignoring the tug in his gut her words caused. "Don't fool yourself, sweet. It was just sex."
She drew back as if he'd slapped her. "Just sex."
"Too many pints, yeh?"
She came to a halt and stared up at him. "Too many pints?"
He stopped a pace ahead of her and nodded, pasting a benign smile on his face.
She gaped at him for a moment. "You unbelievable bastard."
"Tonks..." He feigned astonishment. "You didn't actually think..."
"But..."
"It was just a bit of fun."
She advanced on him. "A bit of fun?"
When she drew back her hand and slapped him across the face, he was not surprised. When she spoke, he was.
"Do you think I'm some stupid little girl? That I couldn't see it on your face when you fucked me?"
"See what?" He asked, afraid he already knew.
"That you love me."
Christ.
When he didn't say anything, she huffed out a breath. "Fine. Fuck you, Lupin."
She turned on her heel and marched away.
He stared at her retreating back. "Fuck."
It was for the best really. She was far better of being brassed off at him than pining.
"Bugger."
There was no reason for it to hurt so much to watch her walk away.
No reason at all.
He loved her too much to drag her down with him.