Written for Remadora microfics day 8. Summary: Remus is pining and realizes he has fallen head over heels for Tonks.
Remus didn't want to call it brooding, but he couldn't think of a better term for his current state. He held a glass, sipping the smoky, nutty liquid within, letting it coat his mouth while he fretted over a peculiar predicament. He closed his eyes, but his mind conjured her, making it painfully clear that he had to make a decision.
He hadn't been this lovesick since he was a hormonal teenager. Then, he'd been full of overwhelming emotions and hope that if he could have friends, he could have a girlfriend. The friendships didn't last; a short-lived fling or two, and the disgust of many more, left him discouraged.
It wasn't until a pink-haired witch stumbled into his life that he became truly hopeless.
When he looked into her enchanting eyes, he could almost see her looking back at him with affection.
When she spoke to him, he heard liveliness, kind-hearted mischief, and warmth. Remus had deluded himself into thinking she spoke with a certain fondness for him, but he knew it was his own imagination, leading him further into despair.
When they danced, a mere hour ago, he'd had one hand on the small of her back and the other in hers. He thought he felt something bubbling between them, but it couldn't be true. She seemed just as comfortable when dancing with Sirius, Arthur, and Kingsley.
His mind, however, had taken all these details and given him a tantalizing vision that would always be out of his reach.
When Tonks looked at him with those wide, twinkling eyes, he pictured her gazing at him like that for the rest of their lives.
When Tonks whispered something in his ear at a meeting or teased him, he imagined she was flirting with him, making him feel wanted and worthy. When he let those thoughts run away, her flirting would spur him on, giving him courage to take her face in his hands and kiss her.
When they swayed to the music, he was halfway in a fantasy world, where she had a ring on her finger, wore a white dress, and called him hers, forever.
That blasted, domestic image had been his undoing. That was the moment he knew he'd gone from enchanted to besotted, from deep admiration to falling completely, unreservedly, and hopelessly in love with her. He wanted her so badly he felt sick to his stomach over it; he felt he had no choice but to find a way to relocate and help the Order from a distance.
A large, tall shadow arrived in Remus's periphery.
"Not now, Sirius."
"I know why you're here."
"Leave me alone."
"When are you going to tell her?"
"Sod off," Remus growled.
"Fine," Sirius snapped. "You barely have the guts to stay alive. Why bother trying for anything more?"
Sirius stomped away. Remus put his head in his hands and wished he could envision something other than Tonks, holding him, kissing him, and never letting him go.