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Thankies: To Chiara, for being my test-reader and for liking it :)

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They sat together at the playground; their first joint assignment since... that day. The joyful laughs of the little children they were supposed to be keeping an eye on did nothing to relieve the silence that was stretching heavy between them.

Tonks had refrained from sitting beside him on the bench. She had sat on the back of it, steadying herself by keeping firm grip on it with both hands, absently swinging her legs as she watched for suspicious movements in the nearby streets. Her hair, now a little longer than usual and coloured a dull brown that matched his – it was uncanny how different she looked in it – swayed slightly with every movement she made. He had a lovely view of her profile from where he was sitting, when he turned to look at her; the evening sun passed through the thick leafage of the oak trees and doused her in shades of orange and pink.

To anybody else, she would have looked tranquil, peaceful, if obviously weary as well. But Remus could see the storm thundering beneath, he could feel her spirit as if it were somehow reaching out to him. The intensity of her emotions, caged inside this seemingly calm interior. An explosion waiting to happen. She was hiding it – it was taking a lot of effort, he could see it. A lot of painful effort that was draining her. But she kept on hiding it nevertheless. She had said it clearly that day:

Since you're not listening to me, I won't talk about it anymore.

And she didn't. But her silence was most eloquent; he could feel her words hammering into his head, even though her lips were sealed.

It was with the force of a tornado that she had confronted his arguments. She had yelled, shouted, called them ridiculous and him an idiot for coming up with them. For letting so trivial things get in their way. And after he had refused to take them back, after his persistence that he was right and she was wrong, after his claim that she was not thinking clearly, she had changed her attitude altogether. All signs of her irritation had disappeared; she had regained composure and her face had become oddly calm, almost foreign.

Without the slightest flinch, she had pointed at the door and asked him to leave.

And he had left.

It was with this calm that she was sitting near him right now, but continuing this masquerade had exhausted her. And yet, he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't break. Unless he admitted he had been wrong, she wouldn't give up on this false tranquility. It had its purpose, after all; she wanted to make it clear to him that she wouldn't let him win, whatever her definition of winning was.

She could go on for months like that, an entire lifetime if she would set her mind to it. He knew she could.

But she wouldn't.

He would keep her away from him, as far away as possible. She would persist for a while, but eventually she would abandon the effort, just out of spite. To show him that she wouldn't cling onto him forever, that she had better things to do with her time.

He was counting on it.

Not that he enjoyed the idea, far from that. Nothing would have made him happier than being with her. She just had this effect on him; her smile mesmerised him, her spirit magnetised him. With each passing day, he found himself drawn closer to her, attracted in a way he could neither deny nor fight. He didn't know how, or when it had started.

But he knew it would end. It always ended for him. Nothing in his life had ever lasted.

Everything, everyone that had ever mattered to him, had ended up ruined. Destroyed. He had been left with nothing, no earthly possessions, no friends, no one to love... She had come into his life determined to fill that gap, but he knew it wouldn't be long before she'd be gone as well. For one reason or another. If he could keep her away... he could at least hope that the terrible fates that seemed to plague everything and everyone he loved would spare her.

It would hurt him. It would hurt him a lot. It already hurt him, in fact; seeing her so close to him, knowing what she was feeling, what she was thinking and yet being unable to hold her, touch her, kiss her... With every glance he stole at her, another piece of his heart was brutally torn away.

But he would gladly give up his heart, his soul, his life if he had to, if it would make sure that she would be safe from harm. It wouldn't kill him. What would really kill him would be to see her ruined, like everyone else he'd made the mistake of letting close to him. Just the thought of it made him shiver.

Something he'd heard a long time ago came back to his mind.

"It hurts more to lose something you loved, than never have something you long for."

Tonks slowly turned her head to look at him. He felt her gaze fall upon him, but continued to watch the kids in the distance. He couldn't meet her eyes now. Not when he knew what he'd see lying deep inside them.

She took a moment to scrutinise his blank face, then turned her attention back to watching the streets.

"It's better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all," she replied tonelessly.

It was Remus's turn to look at her. She was sitting there like she had before, as if she hadn't said anything, as if nothing was in her mind.

For a moment, he wished she wouldn't look so perfect.

Then, his eyes returned to the kids. But his mind didn't follow; it was too filled with thoughts of her. He leaned back on the bench and closed his eyes as he let his body follow the soothing rhythm of the bench shaking along with her swinging legs.

"I've loved and lost too many times in my life," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "I've learned it's better not to have loved at all."

"It's not."

Her voice betrayed no emotion, but it still had the power to cut through him like a knife.

"It is."

She sighed, and by the uneven movement of the bench he realised she was shaking her head. He opened his eyes and looked at her again. Her characteristics had hardened; he could see her lips had tightened, as if she were putting a lot of effort at remaining silent.

"Believe me," he pleaded, "I know what I'm talking about."

She turned to meet his gaze, and for the first time he noticed that her eyes were red. Not the angry red that would match her harsh expression; a different red. Softer. Pleading.

What he had expected to see in her eyes wasn't hiding deep inside; it had come out, to blatantly destroy the façade she had kept up for the entire evening.

She made one last effort to drown the message her eyes were unwillingly sending to him.

"You don't know a thing."

The bitterness in her voice betrayed her.

She hopped down the bench and hastily made her way to the other side of the playground, where she disappeared behind a tree. Remus watched her all the while, knowing full well what the continuous shudder of her shoulders meant, but unable to explain it.

Why had she broken? Tonks was strong – how could she have let something affect her so deeply?

And then it dawned on him.

She hadn't broken. He had broken her. He had let her close without realising it, and now it was too late to undo the damage. He could stay with or without her, but she had already fallen victim of his cursed fate. And he had had enough experience to know that there was no turning back. Today she was broken; tomorrow she would be ruined, or worse still...

Like everybody else was.

Remus buried his face in his hands, as warm tears started to stream down his face. Everything else was forgotten as his mind, his heart, his entire being concentrated in a silent plea.

Merlin, no. Not Tonks too.