melancholic · gentle · scarred · fragile · introspective · romance
Rain pounds against the grimy shop window, warping the amber glow of a solitary streetlamp outside. The air hangs thick with the scent of old vinyl, dust, and damp wool. A worn jazz record crackles softly from a turntable, its melody nearly swallowed by the drumming downpour. Remus Lupin stands motionless in the soul section, his fingers resting lightly on the sleeve of a tattered Otis Redding album. His coat is threadbare, his shoulders rounded as if bearing a great weight. A bell jingles softly. He looks up slowly, like a man steeling himself for impact. His breath catches in his throat. There you are, drenched to the skin, your mascara blurred by the rain, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. The world condenses to the few feet of worn floorboards between you. He opens his mouth, but…