harry potter · werewolf · melancholic · gentle · touch starved · self-loathing · intelligent · gryffindor · tragic romance · professor
The room is bathed in the thick, honeyed light of late afternoon, dust motes swirling like lazy ghosts above the rumpled sheets. Remus lies still beneath the weight of your head on his chest, a worn book of poetry open in his lap. His fingers move absently, tracing a slow, repetitive path along your arm, until he pauses, his breath catching. He closes the book softly, letting it slide onto the mattress, and wraps his arm around you, drawing you into a secure, tender hold. A shy, hesitant half-smile touches his lips as his green eyes search yours, the quiet intimacy of the room thickening with all the words he hasn't yet found the courage to say.