Billet-Doux: a love letter.
August 4, 1997
She was still asleep when he slid out of their bed, sprawled across the whole thing as only she could sprawl. He had to extricate himself from her warm, sleep-heavy limbs with the precision of one excavating land mines. At last he managed it, but in his haste to leave the room, he stubbed his toe on the dresser. Cursing silently, he hopped into the hall, massaging the injured foot.
There was a small room at the end of the hallway that passed as an office only because someone at some time had managed to cram a desk into it and stocked it with ink and paper. He wedged himself into the chair and in the dawn light just creeping in through the curtains, began to scratch out a note. He tried several times to pin down exactly what he felt, to explain to her what was in his heart and mind. But each attempt ended crumpled in the bin with thick scribbles through words that were too small, too dense, too stoic to express what he wanted. Each explanation, no matter how crisp and rational it began, inevitably tumbled into a rambling, circular barrage of excuses.
Throwing down the quill, he gave up. There was no way to explain it. No way she would understand. What could he leave her with that would be sufficient? So he tore off another small piece of parchment and scribbled the only explanation he had, the only thing that could capture the thoughts tumbling through his mind at high speed.
Nymphadora Tonks woke to an empty bed. Not unusual. Slowly, groggily, she swung herself upright. A wave of nausea rolled over her and when she'd finished dealing with that, she went downstairs to an empty kitchen. Not entirely unusual. She went to grab his coat from the hook, but it wasn't there. She grabbed her mother's instead and slipped out into the due-slicked lawn of an empty back garden.
The sitting room, the bathroom, the office, the scullery, even the basement – they were all empty. Her mother still slept upstairs, but the rest of the house was empty. And that was when she found the scrap of paper on his nightstand. There were five words on it. Just five.
I love you too much.
And they told her everything.
A/N: Short and… well, maybe not sweet. I was wondering what I would write for this one. It's for Weasleylover10 who wanted some Remus/Tonks. I'm sorry it wasn't fluff, but I hope you like it anyway. Love you all!