⟨⠀@gryffinwolf· +·𝚂𝙸𝚁𝙸𝚄𝚂 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺⠀⟩⠀· .⠀.⠀.·⠀ 𝙸𝙽𝚃. : 𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙳𝚈 𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚄𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈 𝙰 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙼, 𝙾𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴 𝙶𝙻𝙾𝚆. 𝚂𝙲𝙰𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙲𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈’𝚅𝙴 𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝚂 𝙸𝙽 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴. 𝚄𝙽𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴𝙻𝚈 𝙳𝚄𝙾 𝙸𝙼𝙼𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚄𝙰𝙻 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 –– 𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙻, 𝚂𝚄𝙳𝙳𝙴𝙽𝙻𝚈, 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚄𝙰𝙻. “𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙳𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙸𝙽 𝙰 𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳?”
to be undone by the mere graze of a hand ; to run first hot then cold in a body numbed by centuries of living. he, for once, defenseless ––––––––––––––– oh wonder of wonders. relinquishing has always more or less been a choice ––––––––––––––– it gets lonely at the very top, where no one can reach you. when they all bow and bend, who is there to see past the tips of your shoes ? who is the audacious one that dares, still, to put their hands where scarcely anyone touches ?
𝚁𝙴𝙼𝚄𝚂 𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽 𝙻𝚄𝙿𝙸𝙽 . . . intrepid soldier of his cause ; a magnificent specimen. vigilant and strong and unrelenting ––––––––––––––– except, and this is noted with no small amount of glee ––––––––––––––– when it comes to him. a spark of amusement ; shift in his posture. the lazy drape of an arm over the back of a chair, cocky tilt of the head. with eyes only a predator has for prey, he looks, and looks closely. collecting traits and descriptors, reasons and excuses.
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙰 𝙵𝙸𝙳𝙴 𝙽𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙴𝙼𝚄𝚂’ 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙽, 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚄𝙽𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙾𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙴 ; 𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙴𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙳 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙲𝚃. 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙱𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚆𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙳𝙴𝙴𝙿 𝙱𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙿𝙴𝙳 𝙷𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 ; 𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙾𝙽𝙸𝚂𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙾𝙽𝙸𝚂𝚃. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙾𝙾 𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙾𝙾 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴. 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂, 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙸𝚂𝙴𝙻𝚈 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂, 𝙼𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙱𝙴 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙴’𝚂 𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝙾𝚁.
❛❛ oh, you know ––––––––––––––– just a couple things. i’m not very picky. ❜❜ up and down, head to toe ––––––––––––––– that nimble, dark gaze . . . famished. lips in a gentle upwards curve, loaded like a concealed weapon. ❛❛ tall, curly haired ––––––––––––––– sort of caramel coloured, or honey brown. green eyes . . . a propensity for wanting to fight me . . . ❜❜ trailing off, motioning hand suspended in the air ; eyebrow raised, like, need i say more ?
perhaps he shouldn’t have asked exactly what was on his mind. in a moment of blindness and most importantly weakness, remus had felt more brazen than he remembered feeling in any of his most recent endeavours. in this particular moment, taking aim with a gun loaded with silver bullets, gently but swiftly squeezing the trigger of a crossbow and letting holy water soaked bolts take flight in search for blood, slashing at and cutting and maiming with his most trusted blade, weighted so that it was never off balance in his hand as he arced his arm and buried it home in dead and rotten flesh, doing as he had been trained for what felt like almost as long as sirius has existed in this world - but alas not even a fraction of that much - all of it felt easier, and arguably wiser, than sitting here in a cage of his own making, waiting for an honest answer.
as if such a thing was easy to extract from the vampire who knew a little too much about him, who could probably heart as his heartbeat picked up its rhythm and now his heart was fluttering wildly against his ribcage, like a bird pleading with its captor to be set free.
and when sirius gave him a once-over, all hope of maintaining his composure was lost. if someone were to say that sirius black wasn’t carefully and meticulously built to unravel all of remus lupin’s attempts at guarding himself, then remus would be quick to tell them that that was just as likely as if he were to grow wings and fly.
ultimately, it felt like sirius indeed chose to grace him with the truth today. at least for once.
❛ . . . and also mortal. probably not of the sort to bring home to your family. ❜ not that he were that sort on a good day. and to a non-creature-of-the-night individual. ❛ i thought wisdom came with age. and in turn, better choices. ❜