#* school

stomach DROPS and remus gives a drawn smile as hands still from where he’d been massaging his temples. a foolish error ; the sort of slip-up he thought he was long past making at this point. the lack of color in his face is easier to explain away when he isn’t ACTING LIKE he’s in pain, with gritted teeth and shuttered eyes and hands cradling his head. remus flips a page in the book he’d been faux-reading and glances at mary with a shake of the head.

STOP IT. STOP NOTICING ME. LOOK SOMEWHERE ELSE, NOTICE SOMEONE ELSE, STOP LOOKING AT ME. he bites back irate words that want to bubble to the surface. the concern that she damn well displays is kind, is what friends do, and remus hates every moment of it.

“i’m fine, macs.” the words come out too clipped and near harsh and remus curses himself in his head, “sorry. my mum is ill again.” HIS FAVORITE LIE. “or, still. worse again.” a slip, maybe, but one easily explained. he sets upon that before questions can arise, “and this essay is stressing me out even more. AND i promised peter i’d help him with his charms assignment, and i fear i may have...bitten off more than i can chew.”

teeth grind, hidden behind a hand massaging the bridge of his nose as he stares blank at the canopy of his bed. the dorm room is TOO QUIET, too still, two bodies missing. remus doesn’t know where sirius has vanished to and doesn’t care much to ask after him at the moment, even if he is PLAYING NICE, IT’S FINE, A JOKE WENT TOO FAR, IT’S FINE, I’M A CONVIENT TOOL AGAINST AN ENEMY, IT’S FINE. hand falls to his side on the covers and still sore joints scream at the rough treatment.

“it was fucked up,” he echoes the words like a puppet, wooden and too even to be natural. remus hears the FAKENESS in his own ears and he corrects it when he next speaks. not fake - FINE. just fine. “but it’s not worth being pissed about.” IT IS, his mind hisses. fury is bubbling just beneath the surface and deep sorrow buried beneath even that. the surface remains smooth, though. has to.

GET OVER IT, JAMES. MOVE ON. I CAN’T LOSE THIS - CAN’T LOSE YOU ALL - CAN’T BE MAD ABOUT IT BECAUSE IT’LL DRIVE THE WEDGE DEEPER AND WE’LL SPLIT AT THE SEAMS. he’s lucky to have this, ragged as it is.