That Face
"Remus! Remus, wait!" Remus stopped dead in his tracks, but his pursuer did not. He could tell who it was. He had just told her off in the hospital wing. Why did she have to bloody follow him? He turned slowly, even though he knew who it was. He saw her face.
That face.
Nymphadora had always been baring down on him, always there, always asking, but her method was so discreet that it was hardly noticeable. But it was there. It was always there. She was always begging for a date, a kiss...love. And though Remus' heart agreed — he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her for all eternity — his head knew better. He was a werewolf, for one, and he was a werewolf without a penny to his name. And, to make everything even more outrageous, he was over ten years older than Nymphadora. Letting her go should have been so easy. She was obviously just going through a crush, and he would somehow be able to overcome his love for her. It should have been easy.
But it wasn't.
It was just...that face. How she smiled and laughed and even cried with a delicate beauty, how she was always carefree and delightfully clumsy. The way her light curls that fell around her face, and how there were hard to see freckles sprinkled so lightly on that unmetamorph-able face. The way she was ridiculously enthusiastic and how her face was always bright and filled with color. And how she wouldn't look out of place dancing insanely when no one else was.
And how she actually loved him.
It was a growing infatuation at first, it had seemed, anyway. She had wanted to be around him, that was all. She wanted to talk and laugh in that oh-so-Nymphadora-like way. And slowly, ever so slowly, the infatuation changed. It was almost indescribable, in a way, but after about a year things just...changed. And now, two years since they met, she was in love. It had been a slow process, of course, his heart must have tugged her into it, somehow. But he wondered what she saw in him. He gulped as she approached. Her face shone with tears, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that was not happy, but a reflection of the light in her watery eyes. "Remus," she breathed. He took a small step back and surveyed her a bit. Her robes were a bit disheveled, she was breathing slightly heavily...then he made the mistake of looking at her face. She was watching him, with her tear-filled, chocolate eyes. He licked his lips involuntarily. He felt a lump rise I his throat as he watched her.
"Yes," he replied politely. He wondered vaguely how long it had taken him to answer. His eyes darted all over her, always wandering back to her face, her eyes. He struggled to remember what he had just told her in the hospital wing, the words he had always used. The ones he told her, and himself, especially. The words that kept him in the correct state of mind when he was around her.
He couldn't think of them.
He moved a little closer. Those words meant nothing. He didn't care anymore. He was tired of caring. He would apologize, she had obviously come running back to talk to him, one more time. He glanced at her lips, her cheeks, her nose, drinking in every one of her features, seeing as he had never allowed himself to do that before. He was dying to tell her that he loved her. He was dying to tell her how much he wanted her, despite the words he had told both himself and Nymphadora. Those words didn't matter. All that mattered was her. He then heard her answer. He was ready with his reply.
"I give up."
"What?" That was not his intended reply, but it was appropriate. New tears started to flow out of her eyes.
"You heard me, Remus." She brushed past him and walked as fast as she could away from him.
Cold.
Cold was what he felt.
This was impossible. She had always been there. Always pulling at his heart, always begging to see desire. Always like James, always close and tickling him with her breath in his ear. Always there to beg his lips to touch hers, always ready to accept a 'yes' from him. Always by him, always teasing him with her heart, always there. Always there in case he might, on an off chance, change his mind.
Always.
And now...the one time he was ready to give in...she was gone. She wasn't there. She wasn't waiting for him. He was cold, empty. He had said no one time too many. Even now, when he was fully ready to say yes, ready to take her in his arms and hold her for all eternity, he couldn't say it. He felt a tear roll down his face and let out a moaning sob. He was no longer dying to tell her that he loved her. He was no longer dying to tell her how much he wanted her.
He was dying.
He couldn't live without her. What would his life be without her reassuringly there, ready and waiting for him to accept her? How could he survive without her wild, bright, personality making his day. How had he not noticed this before? How had he not been able to tell that one day she would stop and refuse him, and with that refusal she would be gone. And she would be gone in such a way that he would stop feeling emotion. All he would feel was empty.
Like he was now.
Overwhelmed, he did the one thing he could think of.
He ran.
He had no idea where she had gone, but he as fast as he could in the direction he had last seen her going. He had to see her. He had to talk to her. He had to tell her that he never truly wanted her to leave him alone, he had to tell her that he was afraid to love her, he had to let her know that she couldn't give up. Giving him up wasn't making him happy, nor, he guessed, was it making her. He saw the hem of robes whip around the corner and he doubled his speed, now all-out sprinting.
"NYMPHADORA!" he yelled as he threw himself around the corner. She turned. His face brightened and a smile broke across his face. It was her, she was there, her face was flushed and her chocolate eyes surveyed the weak figure before her. "Nymphadora!" he called again, this time less loud and his smile widening every time he said her name. "Nymphadora Tonks!"
"Yes..." she said slowly, taking cautious steps back.
"No, Nymphadora..." he said acknowledging her stepping away. "Please, no..." he ran to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "I love you." She looked at him for a moment, and Remus was unable to place the expression on her face.
"I know."
"You...you know?"
"Yes," she said, tears sparkling in her eyes, "I do."
"So...so everything's good! We can be..."
"No, Remus. We can't be." Remus looked at her, puzzled. He opened his mouth, but Tonks put a finger to his lips. "I'm not James, Remus. I mean, of course, I'mobviously not James, but, I'm not going to always be there like he was for Lily. You'll never accept me, even though..."
"I love you," Remus whispered. "I—"
"Even though you love me. It's not going to make me happy, Remus, saying no to you and giving up like this, but..." a tear rolled down her face. "I can't wait for something that isn't going to happen."
"But, Nymphadora," he laughed and shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. "This is the thing—"
"You're a werewolf, you're poor, and you're over ten years older then me. You just want to wait. Please, Remus, I've already heard this spiel."
"No you haven't!" He said in desperation. Tonks shook her head and turned away from him, wrenching out of the ironclad grip he still had on one of her shoulders. She walked silently away from him, the sound of her footsteps echoing off the high ceiling of the hallway. "NYMPHADORA! NO, PLEASE!" he shouted feebly, his arms hanging weakly by his sides. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground, and ignoring the pain in his knees he watched her walk away. "I LOVE YOU!" She turned the corner. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! I'll never again say no to you! Please..." his tears fell freely. James was dead. Peter was a traitor. Sirius was dead. Dumbledore was dead. And Nymphadora was leaving him. His world was falling apart. "I have no one left," he said to himself. He pressed the balls of his hands up against his eyes. "Yes," he sobbed. "Don't wait any longer, yes, please, just let me say yes. Don't pull away anymore..." he moaned, "I know I've been doing this to you all the time, but now that you're gone I know what it's like without you. Please Nymphadora..." he said to himself, pressing his hands even harder into his eyes, dying for her to be there, to listen. "Please don't pull away anymore...please..." He noticed himself shaking. "I couldn't stand it."
"You don't really look like you're standing at the moment." He pulled his hands away from his eyes and looked up at a smiling young face, a face that laughed and cried with a delicate beauty, surrounded by light curls and barely visible freckles that belonged to someone who was carefree and delightfully clumsy, ridiculously enthusiastic, and in love with him.
In love with him.
He wondered if she truly was in love, but by looking into her face he somehow knew. He accepted her hand and got up, but he didn't let go.
"How much did you hear?"
"I didn't take a step further than the corner." He smiled and squeezed her hand tighter. With his free hand he pulled her face to his and put his lips to hers. In moments he felt his weak lips being forced open by her tongue, he felt his heart swell, he felt happiest he had been in an extremely long time...
...and then he felt nothing else.
He didn't know exactly how long the kiss lasted, but when they broke apart things felt right. He rested his forehead on hers. Their faces were inches from each other.
"It doesn't matter anymore."
"So I gathered," Tonks replied smiling as Remus grabbed her shoulders and surveyed her. He noticed that her hair was short and pink again. He grabbed a lock of it that was hanging in her face.
"So halfway through our kiss you decided to change your hair back to pink?"
"He liked it that way," she said, eyes sparkling with tears in his memory. Remus caressed her face with his free hand to wipe away the tears and rolled her hair around in his fingers.
"I liked it brown and curly," he remarked as it grew and darkened. She blushed.
"I love you too."
I'm certain if I fall in love,
I'll be lost without a trace,
But it's worth it
For that face.
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A/N: I was watching the new version of The Producers (best movie ever, by the way) for about the 20th time when something hit me. During "That Face" (I LOVE LEO BLOOM. GO DIE ULLA. (just kidding)) I had a feeling that this was Remus and Tonks, although Matthew Broderick looks nothing like Remus and Uma Thurman looks nothing like Tonks (well she could, and please excuse the spelling if I butchered it) I felt that the whole scene kind of related to them. The scene, however, did go a little fast and did get a little...drastic (for lack of a better word) but I decided to write a fanfic about it. Those last few lines in italics are directly quoted from The Producers.
And if you have not seen that movie, watch it. It's hysterical. Roger Dupree ROCKS SOCKS.
