Takeaway. Written for Remadora Microfics day 4: 'don't look now.' G.
The blindfold she placed over his eyes was too tight. Remus held back a grimace and remembered his birthday surprise was more for her benefit than his. How he celebrated another year closer to the grave hadn't mattered to him in almost two decades. Tonks was too full of life to know this, or too self-involved to care for his discomfort.
Nevertheless, he didn't want to see her childish pout because he wouldn't go along with one of her mad ideas.
(It had nothing to do with not wanting to disappoint her, or the perplexing desire to give into her every whim, as long as it made her smile at him.)
"Okay, Remus," said Tonks, the grin evident in her tone, "I'm going to lead you to your surprise. Hold onto my hands."
He felt her slip her small hands into his. They were cool to the touch, but soft, and her thumbs stroked his knuckles. He wondered if the tightness of the blindfold was cutting off his circulation, as he felt dizzier with each step he took, guided by her playful voice and hands.
"Almost there . . . remember, no peeking. Don't look yet."
"I can't see anything," Remus said truthfully.
"Brilliant," she returned, shuffling him downstairs. "Not yet . . . not yet . . . almost there . . ."
Tonks stopped suddenly. Remus nearly bumped into her, but when she let go of his hands, she pressed them gently to his chest.
"Keep your eyes closed. I'm going to take the blindfold off."
Remus felt Tonks undo the knot of the blindfold. He dutifully kept his eyes shut, preparing himself for a loud onslaught of "SURPRISE!" from whatever Order members she'd cobbled together for his 36th.
"Don't look," she murmured. "Just a minute . . . don't look . . . don't look . . . NOW!"
Remus blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the light of the space, confused when no one was in the room. In fact, the library was empty.
"I reckon you were expecting a surprise party," Tonks said, a curiously shy look in her dark eyes. "I've got to admit, I almost threw you a big bash, but then I thought, 'Tonks, he hates those things. Get him something he'll like,' and voila! Here's your birthday surprise!"
She gestured at the coffee table sitting between two matching, faded velvet loveseats. Remus gaped at the variety of goods she'd arranged for him.
"I got you takeaway from that place on Penton you said you loved. I couldn't remember what you liked so I got curry and kebabs—I hope that's all right—and I almost got baklava but the bakery a few doors down had this teeny chocolate cake that looked to die forand I just had to get it, and before you ask, I had everyone chip in a pound or two to help pay for it."
She shifted from one foot to the other. "The firewhisky and books are from Sirius and Kingsley. Molly would've made you a cake, but I thought you'd be bothered with more attention," she said, her excitement faltering. "Do you like it? I can get rid of it . . . or go? I thought I'd join you but if you prefer being alone, I get it."
Remus was rendered speechless at the spread before him. Far from the raucous party he expected, he saw a cozy evening in.
(Besides, as his mind caught up to his hammering heart, he'd have Tonks all to himself, not that it should matter.)
"Should I go?" Tonks asked, hurt, turning towards the double doors.
"Don't go." Remus reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. Her eyes grew wide and her pink hair got pinker. "You put so much work into this. Stay, so you can enjoy it too."
A victorious smile split her face. It was the kind of grin Remus felt himself returning against his will, even as he realized he still had a hold on her delicate wrist.
"Happy birthday, Remus," she said, folding him into a hug. Her head fit perfectly underneath his chin and her arms wrapped tightly around his torso; she nuzzled her face into his jumper, sighing happily. He had to immediately squash the irresistible, burning need to drop a kiss on her pink, messy hair.
Instead, Remus reminded himself to be grateful for what he had. Tonks was a friend, and a friend she would always remain.