Purple Paint
It had been a long day. Tonks had started work at seven in the morning, and it had gone dark by the time Emnisovic took over for the night shift. Tonks apparated home to her own flat, not the Auror house in Hogsmeade, chucked off her Auror robes and flopped onto the sofa. She'd been supposed to leave Hogsmeade the week after the end of the school term, although following Dumbledore's death the village was flooded with half the Auror department, so Tonks reckoned that she'd be swapped out by the end of the week and could come back to her flat permanently.
The last six days had been crazy, and today had been especially knackering because she'd had to pretend that she hadn't just got engaged. Last night, Remus found her behind the pub at Dumbledore's wake, and told her that he hadn't just changed his mind about wanting to be with her, but that he wanted to marry her. It was blindsiding in the best possible way. Tonks could to kiss him again, hold him, hear his voice, listen to what he had to say about the world and be with him always. The awe and elation had threatened to overcome her all day. For such an understated guy, Remus wasn't half good at overwhelming her.
Tonks began to cast a patronus to send to him, but stopped. Remus has seen her changed patronus, though they hadn't talked about it. Tonks winced at the memory of casting it in Remus' bedroom when he explained that he'd be leaving for Fenrir Greyback's werewolf colony, then apparating away immediately. That had been unfair to him, though at the time she'd been shocked and livid and hurt. It might startle Remus to receive it now without warning. Tonks wanted him to know that it was a normal mammal wolf, not a werewolf. She wanted to explain to Remus that she didn't cast a patronus between when Sirius died and when they split up, so she wasn't sure which event caused it to change. Probably both. She suspected Remus would be alarmed, and she wanted him to know that she was too at first, but now she loved it. The wolf patronus had made her feel like he'd been with her this past year when he'd been hundreds of miles away. Would he be disturbed by it? The Remus Lupin who'd be perturbed about her patronus changing to a wolf didn't seem like the Remus Lupin who Tonks got engaged to last night, who was completely sure that this was what he wanted. She wanted to tell him how many of her patronus memories starred him: dancing to Shostakovich the first time she visited his place, listening to him summarise The Mill on the Floss, that night they got drunk on tequila, holding hands under the table at Order meetings, hanging out on the back porch. They'll make more memories like that now because they're going to have an incredible life together. They'll take care of one another, laugh together and have adventures. Picturing it made Tonks' heart skip a beat, and picturing Remus made it skip even more.
Merlin's beard, now she was nervous. She'd only been coming back to her flat for two days out of every few weeks, so it was both half-empty and even messier than usual. The weather was hot and she'd been on her feet all day, so she probably looked a mess, too. Tonks smiled, remembering the first time Remus came round. She'd been nervous then too, unsure what to wear and how tidy to make the flat. Mostly, she'd been nervous about Remus, how he felt about her and where all this was going. There'd be no need for nerves tonight. She didn't need to worry about how he felt, because she knew: He loved her and wanted to marry her. The word "marry" had been thundering round Tonks' head all day. They were getting married. She was going to be his wife, and he would be her husband. It was hard to tell which sounded more bonkers and more exhilarating.
Sod it, she was sending a patronus. It was late already and she couldn't wait all evening for an owl to reach the Order safehouse Remus was living in. Tonks pictured the look on Remus' face last night when he told her Yes, and of how it had felt when he touched her again, and of this morning when she woke up beside him. She loved him in the mornings, when he was rumpled and groggy and not like sensible Professor Lupin. Her patronus appeared faster and brighter than it had for months. Tonks sent it off to find Remus, telling him to be half an hour. No, that was too long to wait.
"Twenty minutes, okay?" Tonks told the wolf, and it galloped away.
She went for a shower, remembering all the times she'd been in the shower, this shower, with Remus. His wet skin. Rubbing shampoo into his hair with her fingers. Explaining what her tattoos meant and coming up with ideas for tattoos he could get, sniggering at how horrified he was. Over the past year, those memories left Tonks miserable, and stressed about Remus not being clean or having his cuts treated after the full moon. Now, she felt giddy, picturing his body and wondering if he would be the next person to see her naked.
Getting out of the shower and walking back to her bedroom, Tonks realised that nearly all her clothes were back in Hogsmeade. Crap. Investigating her wardrobe, and she managed to salvage a skirt that was vaguely nice and a t-shirt she used to like. Remus rarely noticed what she wore, but tonight was special, and she wanted to make a proper effort. Tonks smeared lipstick on and, looking in the mirror, grinned at her hair. She'd been determined to have it pink for Dumbledore's funeral, so she'd spent ages yesterday morning trying to force it back to how it used to be. During the wake it drooped back to the dreary brown it'd been for most of the last year. Tonks hadn't minded- the world was shit, so her hair changing back didn't make much difference. But Remus had changed everything. The world wasn't shit anymore because he wanted to marry her, and they were kissing and joking, she was touching him again, playing with his fingers and stroking his hair and hugging him tight. When she woke up this morning with him beside her, her hair had turned pink at the tips. It got brighter as today had gone on, and had started to curl at the ends, literally perking up.
Tonks made her bed (by hand, because she could never do it correctly with magic) remembering the last time she was in it with Remus and thinking about what would happen in bed tonight. Last year he'd been wary about sex, and spending months with werewolves couldn't have helped, physically or emotionally. Yesterday they reached an unspoken agreement not to do more than kiss and cuddle, given that it was the night of Dumbledore's funeral. Tonks hadn't minded, because they'd had so much to talk about, and talking to him was the best part of their relationship. More than anything over the last year, she'd missed hearing what Remus had to say about the world, and listening to him talk about stuff he was interested in. If tonight was talking and cuddling and getting to sleep beside him again, that'd be enough. Tonks unmade the bed- best not to make Remus think she expected sex, or even that she was hoping for it.
In the living room, she started to chuck the cushions back on the sofa and tergeo the coffee table's stains, when there was a clunk in the fireplace. Tonks' heart leapt, and she couldn't help sniggering at the way she was thinking of him like the Muggle Father Christmas, an exciting visitor via the fireplace. He was here, he was here.
When Remus materialised, he saw that she was laughing, and he beamed back. He had the best smile. It was kind and empathetic and looked as if he was slightly amused by something he shouldn't be. He was so handsome, just totally perfect.
"I love you," he blurted.
Tonks beamed. "I love you too,"
"I've been thinking about you all day," Remus said, so rapidly that it spilled out of his mouth as one word. He hopped out of the fireplace and stepped over to her. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. Tonks' lungs felt empty, probably because her heart was beating against them too hard for air to get in.
"So much," he breathed, and kissed her. His kisses had always felt right, and on top of that was the buzz from kissing him again after over a year. It was almost dizzying, because she thought she'd never kiss him again, and now they were going to be married. Kissing him like this didn't need to be special: it would become normal, since they were going to live together and kiss every day. Through Tonks couldn't imagine the idea of kissing Remus like this being anything other than wonderful.
She could smell the characteristic scent of tea and carbolic soap on him. Last year, when she found out that he used carbolic soap in the shower, Tonks had chortled, then stopped when she realised that he couldn't afford anything nicer. The next day she'd bought Remus a bottle of mint shower gel and a bar of posh hand soap. This time, Tonks promised herself as they kissed, she'd empty a shelf in the cupboard for him and buy every type of cleaning product she could. Shower stuff, moisturiser, aftershave, a decent razor that wouldn't rust. Tonks cupped his jaw with her hand to touch his skin. It was permanently dry, though despite his terrible plastic razors Remus hardly ever got shaving cuts.
Eventually she needed to pull away for air, and inhaled unattractively into his face. Remus chuckled and hugged her. He buried his face into her neck and Tonks wrapped her arms round his shoulders, holding him as tight as she could. She couldn't say which was better: holding Remus or being held by Remus. He felt warm, which was unusual because Remus was normally cold to the touch. The weather had been blazing, but Tonks suspected that it was being with, kissing, and holding her that was making him warm.
Remus peeled away, stroked her jaw with his thumb and said, "I've brought you something,"
She'd always thought his voice was insanely sexy, all gruff and husky and intoxicating. He didn't even know it.
He took her by the band and led her over to the sofa, and Tonks sat down beside him. Remus reached into his trouser pocket for his wallet, took a small object out of it and held it up. It was a ring.
"It's my mother's," he explained, "It wasn't traditional to have engagement rings in the fifties, so there's just this one. I want you to have it, if you like,"
Tonks stared. Then, slowly, she took the ring from him. It was a simple silver band with no engravings or patterns. It had a couple of tiny dents in, and was very shiny.
"Thank you," she croaked, "Oh my God, thank you,"
He barely had anything from his parents. Sirius told her that the Lupins sold lots of their furniture and jewellery, and Tonks knew that Remus has sold more of it in the years since. This must be one of the only items left, certainly the only piece of jewellery. And now he'd given it to her.
Tonks mopped the tears from her eyes and kissed him on the cheek. She twisted the ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand and held it out for Remus to see.
"Does it fit?" he asked.
"Yes,"
"I can get it resized,"
"No, it's perfect. You're perfect," she promised.
Tonks gazed at the ring for another moment, then twisted it off and handed it back.
"You look after it until the wedding," she told Remus, "When are you getting yours? I'd give you my dad's, but that'd be weird considering he isn't dead,"
"Getting my what?" asked Remus, replacing the ring carefully in his wallet.
"Wedding ring,"
"For me?"
"Yeah, you muppet,"
"I didn't realise I needed one,"
"Blokes wear them these days,"
"I don't believe it's necessary,"
Tonks smirked and skewed his collar. "You don't want all your other women knowing you're married, is that it?"
"There's no point if we don't have one spare," said Remus, not smiling back.
"This isn't a spare. This is the nicest thing anybody's ever done for me,"
He was giving her part of his family and making her part of his family. Remus didn't talk about his parents often, so this was his way of telling her that they'd approve. It showed that he'd accepted that his parents would want him to be happy. And that they trusted Tonks to make him happy. Remus was showing her that he knew his family wouldn't try to convince him that she'd get bored of him or that they were ill-suited. They wouldn't warn him that she was too young or that she was Bellatrix Lestrange's niece. They'd trust her to do right by him. She'd never been given a more valuable gift. She'll never own anything more precious.
Tonks kissed him on the jaw, then the nose, on then the corner of his eye. He liked kisses around the eyes, this strange, complicated man who she was going to love forever. Remus tipped his head up to catch her mouth with his. It was mind-blowing that he wanted to kiss her again, and that she could feel him smiling as he did. Tonks smiled back into the kiss, thinking that she didn't need to prove how much she loved him because he'd finally accepted it. She'd spend the rest of her life proving it anyway. Remus deserved that. He pulled her nearer, one arm around her shoulders and the other hand on her bare knee. Tonks had missed his slender, bony hands and how gracefully gentle they looked and felt. She wasn't in the habit of closely observing her friends and their boyfriends, least of all when they were snogging like this, but she was willing to bet that none of her mates had boyfriends who touched them this way. Remus' touch was thorough and librarial, though it didn't feel calculated. It felt like she was a book he was reading for fun, not studying for an exam. It was attentive without being intense, and it made her feel so treasured. It was astonishing that someone as special as Remus treasured her like this. All this, Tonks thought, and the only skin he'd touched was her knee. She couldn't hold in a giggle, and Remus chuckled back, and while their mouths had detached Tonks shifted to sit across his lap. She smirked at how bony and uncomfortable Remus' knees were. Tonks realised that she'd forgotten that. Strange, she thought she remembered everything about him. What else had she forgotten? She couldn't wait to rediscover it all. She had forever now to learn every detail about Remus Lupin.
The kissed became deeper and wetter, across his neck and her collar bones. Tonks could feel Remus' chest rising and falling faster against hers, though his tongue and hands remained scrupulous and unhurried. He explored her mouth slowly, millimetre by millimetre, as if he was the first person to put his tongue inside it. She held his face with one hand, while the other fiddled with his shirt buttons. Tonks had missed those little ways of touching him- fondling the corner of his collar, playing with his fingers, stroking his wrist, brushing her fingers across his cheek or mouth- because he loved those small, innocent intimacies. Tonks pulled away slightly, leaving just enough distance to scuff a thumb over his lips. Remus made a tiny squeak of pleasure and her heart spasmed. She moved back in for another kiss, but Remus leaned away before she could.
"Dora," he breathed, and his voice was even gruffer than usual, "Do you want to go to the bedroom?"
"God, yes".
It didn't feel like it had last year. Before, he'd felt uncomfortable and befuddled. There had been a niggle of guilt in the back of Remus' mind that no matter how much he was enjoying it or how much she said she was too, that this was perverted and sick. Before, he hated the word "intimacy", partly because the euphemism made him wince, and partly because it was a euphemism for the violation he was committing. Last year, the transitions seemed momentous: living room to bedroom, closed-mouth kisses to open-mouth kisses, clothed to naked, standing to sitting to lying. He'd often felt stupid and embarrassed by his blatant lack of expertise.
He didn't feel any of that this time. There was no guilt. There was elation, laughter, stimulation, release and love. "Intimacy" wasn't a euphemism- it was the word for what this was, because it wasn't about sex, it wasn't making love because he doubted he could love her more. It was being close to her. All he wanted was to be close to her. Remus barely noticed the transitions this time: it felt like one act. She knew he found slowness the best kind of passionate so she didn't rush him. She had never once rushed him. How could he feel embarrassed or stupid with her? She was his home.
It was still uncomfortable- of course it would be, it had been over a year, and he came too quickly of course (turned out that that was one of the things that hadn't changed in the past year. It was always either too fast, or it took ages. Never the right moment). But that was alright, because then he could concentrate watching her, stroking her, kissing her, touching her the ways she liked (he hadn't forgotten). He could enjoy the effect he had on her, and let his ears fill with the sound of her breath and the way she breathed his name and told him she loved him, voice trembling, over and over and over.
Afterwards, she teared up again. Last year that would have made Remus panic that he'd hurt her, or that she hadn't wanted to do this in the first place. This time he knew that none of that was true, even before Tonks explained, "I've missed you so much,"
Before, hearing that would have made him guilty and confused. Now it made him go gooey inside, and he beamed as he kissed the tears off Dora's face. "I know. I missed you too,"
Every day, he thought of her. Tonks was in his mind even when he didn't want her to be. Remus tucked her hair behind her ears and held her face in his hands to look at her. Olive skin and plump lips and dark eyes shining with tears. She was so beautiful that it made his heart lurch painfully.
She looked back, studying him, and sighed, "I've missed….your ears,"
When they got into bed, she'd done that thing with her mouth on his ears, which Remus could only describe as heart-attack-inducing.
She moved her face out of his hands and shuffled down to press her head against his chest. Remus gathered her into his arms and pulled the duvet up around her shoulders. It was funny how Dora titillated and intrigued him and made him more alive than ever, yet at the same time he felt safest and calmest when she was near.
Remus glanced around the room, with its peeling posters, stacks of magazines on the floor and full-length mirror covered in beads, and said, "I've missed this bedroom,"
Tonks grinned. "I've missed you telling me how messy this bedroom is,"
"I've missed you pointing out that my house is as untidy,"
"I've missed your jumpers,"
A couple of times last year, she'd pilfered his jumpers to wear, which he'd found utterly bamboozling and alluring.
"I've missed your silly little gloves," he smirked. Stupid fingerless things which couldn't possibly be as useful as she claimed, "And your cooking,"
"Yeah, about that," Dora shrugged, "I dunno what I've got in the fridge, so we'll have to get a takeaway,"
"I haven't missed you putting gravy on chips," he shuddered.
"Says you, Curry Sauce Man!" Tonks cried, jabbing her fingers into his ribs. He'd tried to forget all the ways she had of touching him, the little ways of establishing contact, "I've missed updating you on everything cool that's happened since the 1930s,"
She stopped prodding his side and snuggled back against him. Remus looked down at her head, where her hair was almost entirely pale pink and had turned curly. This morning, he'd felt humbled and staggered when she'd whispered to him that he'd done that.
"I've missed your hair," he said softly.
Tonks looked up at him. She kissed him, tenderly, on the mouth, catching his bottom lip between hers. When she pulled away, she kept her mouth a only fraction away from his as she responded, "Me too".
