aah that must've been my mistake!! he's supposed to be 20 in the beginning..

the smell of coffee carried on through the small house, waking each soul with soft urge. soon, soft cries from the smallest life resident.

he rolls over, groans and tries to wake up by placing kisses on her bare shoulder. "who's turn is it?"

"i believe it's yours."

"how absolutely wonderful", the sarcasm in his tone is made mile by love.

she returns his kisses. "now, go!" then she returns to sweet sleep once again. but she can still hear how her husband finds their little one in her crib, now gleefully laughing at how the cat plays with the fake dead bird. "hello! good morning, little one!"

you'd seen him multiple times. the back of his brown head had far too many times been situated before you in the lecture hall. he was handsome, in that classic way. tall and lean, he looked like he'd been abstracted from a novel by austen or brontë.

and one day he sat down beside you. in the most casual manner, he approached. "is this seat taken?"

"no, go ahead."

and then he started to talk. about small things. but his voice was laced with something deep red, more sensual than small talk.

"are you free tonight?"

roses already started to unfold, "i think so."

"would you mind spending the night with me then?"

full bloom.

"not at all, actually."

he leaned closer, breathing hitched. lips pressed against your cheek, sweet and soft.

his own face was becoming a garden, carnations in full glory. "i'm already looking forward to it."

"to what?"

remus wasn't initially very keen on bubble baths. the sensation of being surrounded by water wasn't one he enjoyed, he found it too close to drowning. that's what his transformations felt like - like it was drowning his real self. suffocating him to bring forward a monster. so he didn't want to feel that more than once a month.

but you insisted. and he couldn't quite say no to the thought of you naked. so it happens every now and again, whenever one of you is stressed or feeling generally bad. you'd develop like a secret code for it, so you could just casually mention it in public.

"i'm feeling a bit tired, could we go walk the dog?"

he'd catch your eye every minute, followed by a staring competition. he'd laugh about it afterwards, but secretely he'd find so much comfort in your eyes on him alone.

his hands would fidget, even as they held yours. there'd be an uncertainty in the way he'd move, his gangly body a teenager again.