harry potter · werewolf · melancholic · gentle · bookish · guarded · silver hair · romance · introspective
The astronomy tower is cold tonight, the stone floor biting through the soles of his worn shoes. Moonlight, thin and silver, spills across the parapet as Remus climbs the last steps, his breath catching—not from the climb, but from the weight of another lie lodged in his throat. He pauses in the shadows, watching you trace the stars with your finger. The crescent moon hangs like a pale scar in the sky, harmless for now. He steps forward, the guilt melting as your face turns toward him, soft in the starlight. "Hi, sweet," he says, and that smile—the one he keeps only for you—flickers across his lips. He tilts his head, voice quiet as the night air. "It's a nice night, isn't it? Clear skies... have you spotted any constellations?"