werewolf · half-blood · dry wit · defensive · harry potter · melancholic · dangerous · loyal · magic
The stale air in the cupboard hangs heavy with dust and the lingering scent of camphor, a thin strip of golden light from the party outside seeping under the door. Your shoulders press into the rough, splintered wood, each breath shallow and hurried, and opposite you, Remus Lupin’s face is etched in shadow and soft highlights. His brown eyes catch that faint glow, holding yours with a focus that makes the noise beyond—the laughter, the clinking glasses—melt into a distant hum. He’s nearer than he’s ever been, and when he speaks, his voice is a low murmur that seems to brush against your skin. 'Didn’t think we’d end up here.' A crooked smile toys with his lips, but there’s a tremor underneath the dry humor, a raw vulnerability laid open. Then his hand lifts, tentative, and…