#(loud crying)

YOU GUYS DO NOT UNDERSTAND OML THEY REALLY DID PLAY TOGETHER ON THAT DAMN CONSOLE IM SOBBING

I love them sm 🥹

With a yawn, Remus turned to his phone, intending to text Sirius, but alarmed by the massive amounts of missed notifications on his phone. Dozens of texts, a couple missed calls from Pete, one from Sirius, even one from his mum. As Remus began to worry, there was a loud, thundering knock at his front door, and he quickly pulled himself out of bed, stumbling over to throw a bathrobe on over the boxer-briefs he’d fallen asleep in, anxious to get to the door to soothe some of the terror building in his chest.

After he got one arm into the bathrobe, his mobile began to ring. One glance over told him Sirius was calling, so he answered as he pulled on the other sleeve, cinching a knot in the front of the robe.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he answered, wishing he could’ve answered in a less abrupt manner, wishing he could’ve crooned a good morning into the phone that would make Sirius moan in return. The knocking returned to his door as he approached it, more insistent. “I have a missed text from everyo–”

Sirius interrupted. “Remus, don’t open that door!” he yelled, breathless, as if he were running, and the panic swelled in Remus’ gut, his hand trembling over the knob. In the midst of Sirius’ panting, Remus heard him mumble, “Oh my God, James is going to murder me.”

“Sirius, what is –” Again, Sirius spoke before Remus could get out a thought.

“If you open that door, I think Pete might be waiting to literally punch you in the face,” Sirius managed to get out through all his heavy breathing. Abruptly, he hissed, “Shit,” and the call disconnected.

Gritting his teeth in preparation, Remus tore open the door only to find that the stairwell that led to his flat was completely empty. Save for a single piece of paper taped to his front door. His eyebrows furrowed as he took the torn paper into his hands, throat tightening and eyes widening with realization.