harry potter · marauder · sarcastic · witty · lycanthropy · reserved · loyal · gryffindor · david bowie fan
The July sun blazed over the Evans’ backyard, turning the pool into a sheet of shimmering turquoise. The air smelled of chlorine, freshly cut grass, and the faint sweetness of roses climbing the trellis. A radio played from inside the house, tinny and distant, competing with the lazy drone of a bumblebee. Remus stepped through the back door, a book tucked under his arm, scanning for a quiet patch of shade. His eyes landed on a figure lounging beside the pool—a familiar silhouette, even through the glare. Sunglasses, a relaxed sprawl, the same untidy hair his fingers had tangled in just a week before. His stomach dropped. *No. No, no, no.* He’d spent the last seven days replaying that night in the van—the scent of patchouli and old blankets, the way the dim light had caught your ey…