So I'm back at my usual style, so yes no more horrible dialogue (I will try and get it better, though, so dread more of it), but with lots of angst!
I'm quite satisfied with this, so hopefully you'll like it too. And reviews are nice. reviews make me happy and a happy Nekare means more drabbles (though I'm already spoiling you a lot as it is, two drabbles per day? tsk tsk, I'm way too nice).
Suspicion
By: Nekare
Remus lays staring at the ceiling, the bedroom covered in darkness and the lingering scent of coffee in the air. He gave up on reading two hours ago, when Mrs. Dalloway started spelling accusations and wonderings amidst its pages, the hated word, Betrayal, forming in every sentence.
He lays alone in the cold room, the heater broken and too tired to remember a warming charm; trying not to think he has no idea where Sirius has gone, no idea if he's meeting someone in a dark alley with information in his pocket; an honorary Dark Mark painted on his left forearm.
The neon lights of the hotel across the street shine through the curtains intermittently, filling the room with flashes of light as red as the dying leaves on the streets and as red as the heart Remus can't help but think is getting ready to be broken. So he waits and tries to shut down his treacherous mind, and when Sirius finally comes home he doesn't waste time pretending he's asleep.
Sirius slips into bed, quiet and awkward and all of the things he had never been before, when it all had been laughs and pranks and hormones and the bittersweet feeling of growing up. He kisses Remus ear, and Remus is too tired to care, too tired to deny himself a little of the man he had once known.
And soon there is only panting and shared breaths as they forget who they are and the war that is raging outside the window, red light flashing a hundred photographs of questionable morality. There are only low moans, sweat slicked bodies moving together – rapid pulse beating together – and the I love you, I love you, ah, yes… Repeated over and over again, while their brains are too devoid of blood to deny the reality; and as they come and shudder without looking at the other the feeling of company comes again, sultry and seductive and making them wonder why did they ever had doubts anyway.
But then Remus' breathing calms and the once blank mind fills up again with the suspicion that's eating his insides, slow and steadily; and the red light seems more like the blood spilled that he's too much of a coward to stop by laying judgment on the man that is falling asleep next to him, a leg on top of his own and sweaty dark hair shadowing his eyes.
Everything's over, and the emptiness is once again swallowing him whole.