#first heartbreak

@wolfstarmicrofic January 7, word count 559

“Oh, Remus,” Lily said as she turned the corner and saw him trying to hold back his tears. She wrapped her arms around him the best she could and hugged him in a way only she and his mum could. He sniffed hard as the tears tried to escape. He screwed his eyes shut as he began to break down.

His chest shuddered as he fought back the sobs, but they broke through and then Lily was stuffing a tissue into his hand as fat, hot tears streaked his face. 

“I-I-I-I’m s-s-s-s-sorry,” He choked out between sobs.

“What’s wrong, Remus?” She asked, stroking her hand up and down his back soothingly. 

“I’m such an idiot,” He said, shaking his head.

“Remus?” 

“I fell for Sirius, and now he’s got a new girlfriend and I just couldn’t stay up there,” He gasped in breath after breath as he tried to calm himself.

“Shhhh, it’s alight, shhhh,” Lily cooed, continuing to stroke his back. 

Sirius had spent the last 2 hours singing her praises and describing in great detail exactly what Emmeline Vance had let him do with her. When he’d started talking about how soft the inside of her thighs were, Remus had excused himself and gone to his favourite hiding place, a window sill, obscured by the statue of a troll in clunky armour, on the fourth floor. 

He hated how much Sirius having a girlfriend was hurting him. He had no right really. Sirius and the others didn’t know how he felt, only Lily knew and only because he’d needed to tell someone he liked boys. 

Lily let him cry himself out before she started cleaning him up. 

“Thanks, Lily,” He sniffled as she wiped his face dry. 

“I’m always here for you Remus. Even if it's to wipe your snotty face.” Remus laughed, blinking away the last few tears.

“It’s pathetic, isn’t it? Sirius having a girlfriend shouldn’t upset me so much. It’s never going to happen between us. I need to realise that and move on.” Maybe he should take Connor Innes up on his offer to go on a date on the next Hogsmeade weekend. That would be sure to shock the rest of the Marauders.

“We all have feelings for those we shouldn’t. Buck up, you’ve just experienced your first taste of heartbreak. Welcome to the club,” Remus narrowed his puffy eyes at her. 

“Who’s broken your heart?” He asked with no idea who it could be.

“Are you ready to go back up?” Lily said, totally skirting around Remus’s question. “I can come sit with you and tell Sirius to shut up or cast a bat bogey hex on him; I’ve been practising.” Remus chuckled sadly. 

“That sounds good, but could we just have a few more minutes here,” He asked hesitantly. 

“Anything you want, sweetie,” Lily told him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and letting Remus lean against her. 

It would probably always hurt having these feelings for Sirius, but he hoped they’d become easier to handle in the future because he didn’t think these feelings would ever go away, and he refused to lose Sirius as a friend. He sighed and stood up, bringing Lily with him.

Sacred prayer, I was there

t, angst, heartache the if they dated in the modern au

Stars ✨

I remember the cool grass under our legs as we sat side by side

The open field, the sky at night

A space between the trees above our heads

Whispers between two kids feeling their hearts swell for the first time

The innocence in the air and the stars in our eyes

Wondering… will he hold my hand?

But now I ask myself…

She was always the soft one.

Not quiet like Rosalina. Not fiery like Liliana. Not sparkling like Petunia.

No—Abilene’s softness came from something holier. Something sadder.

She folded her hands when she wanted to scream. Apologized in advance for existing too fully. Wrote prayers in her diary and underlined the ones she knew would never be answered.

She was the girl who carried other people’s heartbreaks like rosary beads. Who said “I understand” too quickly. Who forgave before the wound was named.

Her love was a candle left burning in a window long after the guests had gone. A melody hummed into a scarf, tucked away in a drawer where no one would hear it.

People mistook her for plain. But they never saw her from the inside.

The golden faith in her silence. The stubborn way she still believed in goodness— even after Adam.

She loved him like scripture. Read between his words like verses. Believed, truly, that love meant sacrifice.

And when he left— when he unlaced the ribbon she tied around her hope— she didn’t scream.

She just folded the memory, like a church bulletin after Sunday mass, and placed it gently in her coat pocket.

Abilene was not fragile. She was tender. And there is a difference.

Because fragile things break. But tender things bend, weep, mend.

She still sings. Still walks barefoot in the sanctuary. Still lights a candle for the girl she used to be.

The one who thought being good would be enough. The one who gave her heart like communion bread, and waited for someone to taste it kindly.

She is learning, now, to save a piece for herself.

To keep the last hymn for her own voice.

To sing the end of the lullaby.