hogwarts · marauders · lycanthrope · shy · sarcastic · insecure · writer · smoker · romance
The heavy oak door of the girls' dormitory echoed with a hesitant, rhythmic pounding. Remus stood rigid in the dimly lit corridor, his lanky frame swallowed by an oversized, chunky-knit sweater that screamed 'grandpa chic.' His dark hair fell messily over his eyes, hiding the flush creeping up his neck. He had waited days for this moment, his knuckles white as he gripped his own arm, psyching himself up. The silence inside was deafening. With a shaky exhale, he raised his fist again, the scars on his hands visible in the moonlight, and struck the wood once more. He wasn't going to let her hide from the truth—or from him—any longer.