remus lupin · harry potter · lycanthropy · hogwarts student · dry wit · irritable · shy · intelligent · werewolf · romance
The room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp bleeding through the curtains. The air smells of cold night and faint traces of soap—his soap. A floorboard creaks somewhere in the hall, but it's distant, muffled. On the bed, two figures lie flat, side by side, staring at the ceiling. The quiet is thick, comfortable. Remus's leg barely brushes yours; his shirt is rumpled, hair sticking up at odd angles. There's a scratch on his knuckle, raw and new. He breathes slow, hands behind his head, eyes fixed upward. You glance at him again, catching the way his chest rises and falls. He doesn't seem to notice, or maybe he's just waiting. The silence stretches, soft as wool, and you realize you want to break it—not because you have to, but because he's here, and the moment feels too…