#yeonno

James is always electric on the pitch, but today he is just magnificent, scoring for the second time in only two minutes and probably the seventh or eighth time in total this match. He stops briefly after scoring, basking in the cheers from his house and anybody else who’s in attendance in support for Gryffindor, which is honestly most of the school. But then he’s off again, nothing but a red flash in the sky as the match resumes. 

The commentator continues.

“And Slytherin has the quaffle, passing to—oof, rough bludger hit there by McKinnon. She sure looks fit on her broom up—”

The microphone screeches when Professor McGonagall rips it out of the commentator's hand, but James barely registers her scolding and the rumble of laughter that passes through the crowd. The opposing team now passes the quaffle back and forth as they slowly near the Gryffindor keeper.

James speeds up on his broom, winding his way through the other players in order to get over to the Gryffindor hoops as quickly as possible. Their keeper is good, of course he is; James had picked him out himself, but so was the Slytherin team. His hands tightly grip the handle of his broom, and he leans forward even further, his chest now almost touching the sleek wood, in order to go even faster. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him approach, confident and natural as always and looking like his broom is just an extension of his body. The microphone screeches again uncomfortably as the commentator snatches it back from McGonagall, but not because of James this time. 

At the edge of the Quidditch pitch, out of James’ line of sight, both the Gryffindor and the Slytherin seeker had assumed a steep dive, and a tiny golden flash of the snitch could be seen whizzing between the wooden planks of the stands in front of them. 

“It looks like Fortescue and Black have caught sight of the snitch!”

The Slytherin chaser holding the quaffle and the Gryffindor keeper were successfully distracted by this information, but James didn’t take his eyes off his target for even a split second. While the crowd’s eyes were glued to the two seekers, he kicks the quaffle right out from under the Slytherin chaser’s arm and drops into a steep dive to catch it before it hits the ground. 

“And Potter wins the quaffle back! Merlin’s fucking—“

You won’t dare take your eyes off the pitch, even as McGonagall scolds the commentator about inappropriate language again. James continues, quickly winding his way through the players again while the seekers fight for the win. At this point, nobody has any idea where they should rather look.

”Sorry, Professor—Potter has the quaffle! That bludger was a narrow miss, but Potter is a beast on that broom, he’s the Gryffindor captain after all—“

James roughly tugs at the handle of his broom to barely escape the bludger that had been sent barrelling in his way. The Slytherin keeper is positioned right in front of the middle hoop, so an attempted goal from this angle would surely be saved. He feigns an attempt to hit the left hoop to get the keeper out of the way before hauling the quaffle into the right one just as Alice’s hand closes around the golden snitch. 

“AND FORTESCUE CATCHES THE SNITCH JUST AS POTTER SCORES! GRYFFINDOR WINS!”

The red half of the stands erupt into cheers of joy, and you’re right there with them, screaming your lungs out for the house win against Slytherin. James pumps his fist into the air victoriously, but he doesn’t join the other Gryffindor players gathering around Alice to celebrate just yet. Instead, his eyes dart away to search the stands for you, and that signature grin lights up his face as soon as he sees you there with your little Gryffindor flag and wearing his old jersey. Before anyone can stop him, he’s speeding over to you on his broom. Naturally, cheers start erupting around you when the Gryffindor captain approaches your section, but James only has eyes for you.

He stops in the air in front of you, briefly lifting the collar of his quidditch jersey and exposing a sliver of toned stomach to wipe the sweat on his face. And then he’s kissing you before you can say a single thing, still hovering dangerously on his broom, but it's all worth it just to get a taste of your lips. His arms wrap around you so tightly that your feet lift off the stands, pulling you as close as the railing between the two of you could possibly allow—literally sweeping you off your feet. If this weren't James, you’d be worried about him falling off his broom, but this isn’t even close to the stupidest thing he’s ever done and succeeded at. He’ll always find you first after a win, and if he’s being honest, you’re the only one he really wants to celebrate with.

The commentator barely manages to get out a comment about “Potter snogging his girlfriend” before the microphone is ripped out of their hands for good. James manages a smug chuckle against your lips, his confidence obviously fuelled by the attention. 

"James—" you coo against his lips, but he just shushes you with another long kiss.

It almost feels like the two of you are the only two people left in the world right now, despite more than half of the entire school roaring, mostly in support but also mild repulsion (from the Slytherins). 

”You should—mm, get back—to the others—“ you mumble against his lips, starting to turn a little shy from this very public display of affection. 

“But this is how I celebrate our victory, love. Are you really going to send me away?” he replies after finally pulling away from your lips. He’s not had enough of you yet—not even close—but he also doesn’t want to make things uncomfortable for you. 

He winks at you cheekily and gently squishes your flushed cheeks with his thumb and forefinger before he lets go and thankfully holds on to his broom again. He looks way too pretty right now for the cocky smirk that’s still plastered on his lips. He’s won the match, he’s kissed his girl—there’s basically nothing that could possibly make this situation even better. 

“Oi, get down here, Prongs. Enough snogging,” Sirius calls out, huddled together with the rest of the team. The Gryffindor captain should probably get down again to join them and give a motivational speech or something, but James has always been one to do whatever the hell he wants. 

He grins when he looks up and spots you, immediately closing his book that he was only pretending to read anyway.

“There's my girl.”

His voice comes out softer when he senses how tired and worn out you are from your day. He mentally pushes away all the exciting things he wanted to tell you about and instead just opens his arms for you. 

“Come here, tell me about it, love,” he adds. 

You surrender and drop your bag onto the floor before crawling into his embrace. Luckily the common room is empty enough that the two of you have your privacy and won't feel constantly watched. 

You sit beside him first and lean your head against his shoulder, but by now you should know that's not nearly close enough for James Potter. His arms wrap around your waist so he can pull you right into his lap, practically curled up against him. 

“I couldn't transfigure my rat into a hamster, it kept turning into a mouse instead. And Potions was hard,” you complain, albeit starting to relax in James's comforting embrace. You can hear the steady beating of his heart against your ear, which is slowly increasing now that you're here.

He hums against the crown of your head, focusing on running his fingers through your hair just the way you like it and his other hand keeping you close as it rests on the small of your back. 

“Don't dwell on it, love. You'll get it next time, I know you. You're my smart girl, and I know you can figure it out.”

James pulls back a little and tilts his head to the side to get a look at your face. He’s still grinning, but more because he finally has you in his lap, right where he wanted you all day. 

“Meanwhile,” he starts, and his hand leaves your hair, instead tilting your head up by your chin so he can meet your eyes. The little pout on your lips is cute, too cute. So cute, in fact, that James just wants to kiss it right off. 

“Meanwhile, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't cheer my girl up, hm? And I think I know just”—his finger gently boops your nose—“the”—he taps your bottom lip—“thing,” and finally takes your chin to bring your pretty face closer to his. 

He's pleased to see that, by the time he lifts your face to meet his, he can see that soft smile he loves so much.

“You're ridicul—” you begin, but are quickly interrupted by the soft press of James's lips against yours. 

The kiss starts soft, almost reverent. He presses one gentle kiss after another to your lips, tilting his head between them or guiding your face with a gentle hand, exactly how he wants it. He can feel the way his glasses slide up his nose when they press to your cheek or your forehead, but none of you seem to care at this stage. Instead, the kiss is sometimes interrupted by a quiet giggle or a chuckle or the soft whisper of something silly (mostly from James). 

But the kiss eventually deepens when James parts his lips to capture yours a little longer. Merlin, he's missed you all day. How do you expect him not to? And you taste so sweet, you've got him addicted. 

“Mm, you were planning this all along, weren't you?” you mumble against his lips when the two of you part for a second. 

He just chuckles before he nips at your bottom lip cheekily. 

“Guilty, love. But can you blame me? You're gorgeous,” he replies smoothly. 

The laughter turns into gentle breaths when both of your hands move to pull the other closer. James wraps both of his arms around your waist to keep your chest pressed against his while he leans back against the settee so the two of you assume a more horizontal position. 

You swallow the rumbled hum that escapes his throat against his will. His voice getting a little rough as soon as your kisses get heated never fails to send a shiver down your spine. It's maybe a little too heated for the semi-public setting you're still in, but when was James ever the type of person to care about attention?

His hands finally settle on your hips and trace the soft curves through the fabric of your uniform as your kisses continue to grow more heated. But when James tilts his head again to kiss you deeper, the motion knocks his glasses to the side.

He huffs, obviously frustrated that he has to stop kissing you, but still pulls away. His pupils have almost filled out his iris when he opens his eyes to look at you, and his lips are red and kiss-swollen. 

He grins at you and reaches up to almost yank his glasses off his face. Curse them for interrupting his good time. He folds them and carefully places them onto the armrest of the settee.

“Come here,” he murmurs, his eyes already glued to your lips again. 

However, this was nothing the Marauders couldn't fix. Many a plan had been carefully constructed in those brilliant four minds of theirs. This situation was no different. James came up with an idea that he was sure would be completely foolproof.

The day started like any other. You were sitting in the Great Hall, eating breakfast among a few of your friends, when the peaceful chatter was interrupted by the familiar laugh of James as he entered the hall with his infamous trio by his side.

You knew what was coming: he'd make his way over to you, loudly declare another flirty remark or compliment, and be on his way again. You had become accustomed to this little morning ritual the two of you had unofficially established. Somewhere along the way, you had come to enjoy it quite a bit.

But not today. You watched as he sauntered past you, dropping down on the bench a little further down next to Lily Evans, not sparing you a single glance.

“Oi, Evans,” you watched as he propped up his chin on one of his hands, giving her the signature smirk that was usually reserved exclusively for you. Your friends exchanged a glance, clearly also confused. The rest of the Marauders took a seat at the table as well, looking not at all fazed by this.

“What do you want, Potter?” Lily didn't seem pleased that he was interrupting her morning reading time.

“Can't a lad admire the view without being accused of an ulterior motive?” he replied cheekily, a smirk still playing on his lips. “You look particularly beautiful today, Evans.”

You felt your stomach drop. James was a popular guy, but him moving from you to Lily overnight felt out of character and like he had just been playing with you. This was not something you felt like listening to today.

You dropped your fork rather loudly, abruptly standing up from your seat. Maybe it was silly to act like this over a crush, but that didn't make your heartbreak any less real or valid.

“I'm not hungry anymore,” you mumbled to your friends, already grabbing your bag to leave early for class.

You had hoped it would end there, but throughout the day, whenever you caught sight of James, he was somehow bugging Lily. Forcing her to let him carry her bag, commenting on her hair or her eyes, basically doing everything he usually did with you. The only difference was that Lily seemed extremely bothered by it.

You withdrew into your circle of close friends, no longer sparing him a glance. If he wanted to act like a complete arse, then you would just ignore him. Still, your friends tried cheering you up.

He's such a prick, who does he even think he is?

You deserve so much better anyway.

Want me to go and punch him in the face for you?

The last one at least made the corner of your mouth twitch. But James finding someone new felt like the sun had just decided it didn't want to shine down on your earth anymore.

Meanwhile, James was starting to become increasingly confused by your behaviour. He barely saw you at all that day, but, oblivious as he was, he didn't think to connect it to his grand master plan.

The only reason he was doing this was to finally get the confirmation he needed to stop beating around the bush and confess. Now you weren't even seeing it.

“She's not even here right now,” he said when the four Marauders had gathered to eat dinner that evening. You were nowhere to be seen at your house table.

“And I forgot to bring the map. Where is she?”

Remus sighed, shaking his head.

“I told you this was a bad idea. Normal people just tell someone they like them, you know.”

James just shot him a playful glare.

“C'mon, Prongs. You're not going to let some bird ruin dinner, are you?” said Sirius, clearly not loving this conversation.

“We have priorities, lads. For the next prank I was thinking—”

He then proceeded to lay out the next plan for—well, James wouldn't know. He was lost in thought, trying to figure out why he had barely crossed paths with you today. It remained a mystery.

That is, until something caught the corner of his eye. He sat up, visibly lighter when he saw that you had entered the Great Hall. Just the sight of you brightened his gloom. Maybe he had just been imagining things.

But no. His eyes followed as he watched you make a short stop at your house table, wrapping some food in a napkin before you turned to leave again.

James leapt up, ignoring Sirius's protests, and darted after you, determined to find out what was going on.

“Y/n!” he called out once he was behind you in one of the hallways, but you made no move of turning around or stopping for him. He called your name again, but it seemed like you couldn't hear.

He finally caught up after you had rounded a corner, and his hand closed around your wrist.

“There you are. I was looking all over for you,” he spoke, slightly out of breath.

You turned. Clearly your idea of staying out of his way had failed miserably.

“Were you now?” your voice didn't carry its usual warmth, and the question came out sarcastic. James raised his brows in confusion.

“Yes. What—I barely saw you today,” the usual cockiness had completely vanished from his voice.

“Well, I saw plenty of you, James.”

At the end of the day James owed you nothing, but you couldn't stop the anger and hurt bubbling up in your chest. Everyone had thought that James only had a thing for you.

You ignored the growing confusion in his gaze and continued.

“It looked to me like you were busy with Lily Evans,” you raised your shoulders in a mock shrug.

“Not much room left to look for me then, really. Wouldn't you agree?”

Damn it, he should have listened to Moony. He'd spent all day thinking you just hadn't been around, but now he saw that he had hurt you. His plan had completely backfired.

When you turned to keep walking, he didn't let go of your wrist, almost as if he was afraid.

“James—”

“Y/n, I'm sorry. I've been an idiot.”

You'd never seen James this genuine. His face was contorted with shame when the realisation finally hit him. It all happened at once.

“What are you talking about? I don't want to hear your apology now that I've called you out on it,” you said, rightfully so.

He quickly shook his head.

“That's not what I'm doing. I—Well, it's completely stupid. I thought it would actually work, but I didn't think, did I?”

He was rambling now, not making any sense at all.

“Look,” you started. You hadn't wanted it to get this far, but there was no going back.

“You don’t have to do this. I get it, okay? Sometimes feelings change, but you didn't have to be such an arse about it.”

But he was shaking his head again, almost frantic. It was a miracle he even let you finish your sentence.

“No, you're not getting it, y/n. I just—Alright, I guess I'm doing this. I wanted to make you jealous.”

The confession was out before he could stop it. He cringed internally at the sound of his words, now hearing the stupidity in them.

“Jealous?” you started, not exactly believing him yet.

“Yes, because I thought that, if it worked, I would know that I could ask you out. I didn't think that it could hurt you, I didn't think that far ahead. But either way, that wasn't my intention. Alright?”

His eyes were pleading; anyone would have been able to tell that he meant what he was saying. You didn't reply at first, and it infuriated him that he couldn't read your expression.

But eventually you let out a sigh.

“That's so stupid. You do know that normal people usually just tell the person they like how they feel, right?”

You didn't sound as resentful anymore as you did earlier. It made his heart feel the tiniest bit lighter, but he knew you wouldn't let him off the hook so easily.

The corner of his mouth twitched. Remus had said the exact same thing to him.

“Yeah, I’ve—I’ve been told.”

Another moment of silence followed between you two, a lot gentler this time.

“But I want you to know that I'm sorry. I didn't have any malicious intent.”

He carefully slid his hand from your wrist, holding your fingertips between his instead.

You huffed. It was hard to stay mad at him when he looked like a kicked puppy and after he had just indirectly confessed how he truly felt about you already.

“You are an idiot,” you said first, not unkindly.

You slid your hand from his grasp, letting it drop to your side. There was definitely amusement visible on your face now.

“So ask me out properly next time. Maybe I'll say yes.”

James watched silently as you continued your walk down the hall, his heart pounding in his chest. Merlin, he was so gone for you.

Lily welcomed you into the hall after you knocked on the door softly and enveloped you in a warm hug. It was the first time seeing her in two years too. By now, she and James had moved into this lovely home and even welcomed a son into the world, who you had yet to meet.

“Oh, sweetheart. I missed you so much,” she spoke softly into your hair.

“I missed you more, Lils. Merry Christmas.” You let go of her after a few seconds and quickly shed your coat and your boots.

“Merry Christmas. You look absolutely stunning,” Lily said as she took your coat from you and turned to hang it up.

“You’re just saying that,” you answered with a smile.

“No, I’m being serious. You’re glowing, y/n,” she took a step closer, linking her arm with yours. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, making sure that only you could hear.

“He’s already here,” her smile turned sympathetic, almost a little sad. “Will you be alright?”

You’d spent the whole day leading up to this asking yourself the same question. But after two years of not seeing the guy who had left you, you would be alright. It was simply decided. You would never deprive yourself of spending a wonderful, festive evening with your closest friends just to avoid him.

“It’s fine, I’ve prepared myself to see him again,” you nodded firmly, also convincing yourself of this fact.

“Okay, but let me know if it’s too much.”

Lily proceeded to lead you into the living room, where everyone else was already waiting. It was decorated beautifully with a large Christmas tree in the corner, fairy lights and twigs of mistletoe practically everywhere and the smell of freshly baked goods in the air. It really felt like Christmas now that you were home at last.

“There she is,” James was the first of the three men to greet you, opening his arms and hugging you tightly, just like Lily had. “Where did you come from this time? Spain, Italy, New Zealand?”

You'd kept them all up to date on your travel destinations. All except Remus.

“Brazil,” you corrected him, and James whistled.

“Must be nice. You look amazing.”

Sirius greeted you next, “Beautiful, as always.” He was already sipping on something that looked and smelt like eggnog, and it clearly wasn't his first tonight.

You chuckled. “Missed you too, Sirius.”

After hugging him briefly, your eyes searched the room and landed on him. Remus. You took in a sharp breath. Seeing him for the first time after—everything—felt like absolute hell. He was standing rather awkwardly at the edge of the room, clearly not knowing how to handle this situation either. 

Remus looked up, finally meeting your eyes, and time briefly stopped. After he left, you’d spent hours, days, weeks imagining the things you would do to him when you saw him again. You’d imagined the things you would scream and carefully pictured every possible way the conversation between the two of you could go. You had wanted to throw those empty picture frames at him that had once held photos of the two of you in love. You had wanted to make him feel exactly the amount of pain that he had caused you. 

But you just stood, unable to say or do anything other than look.

He'd seen better days. You couldn't ignore that his eyebags looked worse than usual, and that was saying something. His face was tired, almost sunken, and his skin had an unhealthy-looking greyish tint to it. But he still looked like Remus.

Despite the almost two years that had passed since you had last seen him, it hurt like it was just yesterday. It ripped open every wound you had worked so hard to seal, and yet you still weren't looking away. 

He'd done the unspeakable, abandoned you for no reason whatsoever. But this was not the time to think about that. You couldn't, out of fear of ruining the night for everyone.

You turned to Lily, taking the decision away from Remus whether he should greet you or not. Ignoring him would be the easy way out, but it was unclear how long you would be able to keep that strategy up.

“So, where is my new favourite Potter? I was promised I'd be able to hold a baby.”

Everyone in the room seemed to start breathing again. Lily's face immediately lit up.

“I was about to check if he's woken up from his nap anyway. I’ll only be a minute.”

Lily excused herself to fetch Harry from the nursery while James handed you something to drink. You took the glass from him, making yourself comfortable on the couch next to Sirius. You didn’t look over to see what Remus was doing.

“So, tell us about your travels,” James said, taking a seat on the armrest of the big armchair that stood facing the couch. “Lily loved your postcard from Paris. She made me swear to take her there for our anniversary next year. Thanks for that, by the way.”

You laughed into your drink. Maybe the night would turn out to be bearable after all. You had missed this type of light-hearted, silly talk with your friends.

“You won’t be mad anymore when you’ve actually been there, James. It was great. Everywhere was just amazing, not just Paris. I’m really happy I took the time to finally travel to all the places I wanted to visit.”

Your eyes flickered over to Remus’s corner of the room, but you quickly looked away when you saw that his eyes were already firmly fixed on you. The plan had originally been to travel the world with him, but then the two of you had found a house. The house. And between seeing the world and finally settling down in a beautiful place with the love of your life, you had made your choice. Then Remus had left the night before you were supposed to sign the papers.

“And where will it be taking our little adventurer next?” Sirius asked from beside you. 

You smiled softly, looking down at the glass in your hands again. That question was easy.

“I’m here to stay this time. I missed too many important things while I was gone. I mean—” You looked up at James. “I still regret that I wasn’t there for Harry’s birth.”

James just grinned and shook his head.

“Don’t worry, he just screamed the place down. Gave us all a big headache, really. But Lily was a champion; she made quick work of it.”

Just as he started talking about Lily, she finally entered the room again. In her arms she now held a little boy, wearing a red and gold onesie. He looked so remarkably like James, already sporting a full head of messy, black hair. 

“Don’t listen to James. You were there in spirit. Besides, you’re here to see him now, aren’t you?”

You gasped softly as Lily walked over to you, and you could finally see him up close. Harry was starting to open his eyes, letting out sleepy little coos and babbling sounds. 

You sat up in your seat, speaking softly, “Hi, little nephew.”

Lily chuckled. “Would you like to hold him?”

She carefully handed him over after you nodded, and you took him gently, making sure to support the back of his head with one of your hands. He was so tiny and so sleepy; it was the perfect distraction from the feeling of Remus’s eyes burning into your skin.

“He's probably hungry,” said Lily, still looking at Harry fondly. 

“Takes after his old man,” James was still grinning, watching as you held the little boy in your arms.

Harry stretched out his tiny hands, one of them reaching out to grab onto a strand of your hair. You couldn’t stop a little laugh escaping your lips. He was just too cute.

“You mean after his godfather,” Sirius said, puffing out his chest. Lily had written that they had decided to make Sirius godfather in one of her letters to you, and you knew it would be the perfect fit.

You reached out a hand to tickle Harry’s cheek with one of your fingers, proud when he started giggling and grasping at your hand instead.

“He’s adorable, I love him already. If you ever need someone to babysit, I hope I’m your first choice,” you said, cuddling the giggling Harry a little tighter. 

“Careful now,” James said. “You know if you offer to babysit once, we’ll be asking you all the time, right?”

Harry let out a delighted squeal when you moved your hand to tickle his belly instead. 

“Fine by me, you just might never get him back.”

You were still smiling when Sirius swooped in to steal Harry from you, cuddling him against his chest instead. But when you averted your gaze, your eyes met Remus’s again. Through all the fun, it was like you had briefly forgotten he was there, but he was still looking at you with an unreadable expression. 

You quickly looked away again to avoid your eyes getting watery, but Lily had already seen. She gave you a sympathetic smile when you finally looked over to her instead.

“Want to help me with dinner? It’s not quite done yet.”

You quickly nodded, grateful that she offered you the opportunity to escape. After standing up from your position on the couch, you followed Lily into the kitchen. Everything was affecting you rather much, which only made you angry at yourself. 

Lily ordered you to start chopping vegetables while she checked on whatever smelt amazing in the oven. 

“How are you actually?” She suddenly asked. Fooling her was absolutely impossible. 

“I know you want to seem fine, but I also saw that look on your face just then. Talk to me?”

You finally gave in to the pain you'd been feeling in your heart ever since your eyes met Remus's in the living room the first time. Where should you even start?

“I didn't think it'd hurt this much. I thought after this much time—I don't know. I did so much to get over him, but now I feel like I'm back to square one.”

You started to feel a lump growing in your throat, your voice thick with emotions. 

Lily finally turned to you, realising it was more serious than she had anticipated.

“It's okay to still be sad, y/n. Healing isn't linear, and you coming here today despite knowing that he would be here means so much to me. It means a lot to all of us.”

Her gentle words were what finally broke you. Your bottom lip wobbled, your vision starting to blur from the tears gathering in your eyes. Lily had been there for all of it; she'd gotten you through the worst times. 

“Oh no,” she'd seen, quickly taking a step closer to embrace you. 

“It's alright to cry. Just let it out, I've got you.”

Your hands grasped for Lily's shirt as you sobbed into her shoulder, letting everything wash over you. Your heart physically hurt with Remus so close to you again. Your Remus. At least he had been yours at one time. The two of you stayed like that until your sobs started to turn into soft hiccups and the tears running down your cheeks slowed.

“I’m sorry, I don't want to ruin Christmas. Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” you said with a broken voice, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. She quickly handed you a napkin, still not letting go.

“No, no, no, you're not ruining anything. We all love you, and we want you here, alright? You belong here, you always have.”

Her words soothed that broken part of your soul. Sometimes it helped to hear that you were still loved and wanted from these wonderful people you got to call your friends.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly. “I’m not sure if I can cope. I’ve spent all this time running—”

“Maybe you were running away, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. You needed time to heal and to find yourself again. And you have, haven’t you? That time away was right for you. It’s normal that things start to hit a little harder when you get back and have to face reality. But you have us, you never have to cope alone. Alright? More importantly, you have me, and I'd sooner kick him out than send you home if it's too much for you.”

She gave you a comforting smile, grabbing another napkin to help dry your tears. Whatever would you be without Lily Potter. You knew that she was telling the truth when she said she’d kick Remus out to make you feel better.

“Thanks,” you gave her a wet laugh, recovering a little. “But you shouldn't have to, I can handle it. At least I'm trying to. Besides, I think he needs James and Sirius just as much as I need you.”

She tutted fondly, leaning to the side to throw away the wet napkin.

“You're too kind, as always. But alright, he can stay for now. Christmas is supposed to be merry, after all,” she said before letting out a quiet laugh. 

The two of you continued to work on dinner, casually chatting over the concerning amount of noise coming from James and Sirius in the living room. Remus wasn't doing much to direct any attention to himself in there, and for that you were rather grateful. 

A little while later you had started to set the table in the dining room. You could still hear James and Sirius being noisy only one room over, both of them having had quite a bit more to drink at this point. But Remus was still as quiet as ever. Your mind briefly wandered as you thought of him, until you heard someone approach from behind.

“Do you need help?” The sound of his voice—gods, his voice—made your heart ache all over again. There were still so many unanswered questions between the two of you. You answered him without looking over.

“No, I'm alright. Almost done,” you said, placing the last plate on the table before moving on to distribute cutlery.

“If you're sure.” 

You continued to work in silence, but you didn't hear him walk away. He was still standing there, just looking. Couldn't he see how uncomfortable this was? You could feel his eyes on every little move you made.

“Remus—”

“Can we talk?” The two of you had broken the silence at the same time. 

You finally looked up. He was leaning against the doorframe, his expression almost pleading. The second your eyes met, you could feel it again: that tingle in your stomach that belonged to him alone. But those times were over.

“No. No, we can't,” your voice thankfully didn't waver. There was no way he had the right to know how you actually felt. For all he was allowed to know, you were doing better than ever. 

“Please—”

“I don't know what you want to talk about,” your voice came out a little firmer by accident. 

“There's nothing you could say to me to make this right, Remus. I don’t want to hear it.”

His expression visibly dropped, but you weren't about to feel guilty for looking after yourself. 

“Y/n, please,” Remus said again. 

You forced yourself to turn away when he said your name. How many nights had you dreamed of hearing him say it again, just one last time. 

“I'm not asking you to forgive me, I'd never expect that of you. Not after what I did to you. Please, just hear me out. That night I—”

You place the last fork on the table with a thud.

“No, I can't do this tonight.”

Merlin knew how emotional it would make you to have that conversation. Tonight, on Christmas Eve, really wasn't an appropriate time, and you'd already cried in Lily's arms. But turning him down hurt you more than you liked to admit.

“It's not a good time,” you added. “Please not tonight.” 

He nodded, finally understanding but still not letting it go so easily.

“No, you’re right. It’s not a good time, I apologise. But I would still like to talk to you. It can be whenever you want.”

You let his words sink in, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, you wanted to scream in his face to get lost. But hadn’t you just spent two whole years silently wishing that you had him back? Wasn’t the reason that this hurt ten times more than it had to because you were realising that you were still in love with him? After all he had done, you were.

“Okay,” you said first. You paused for a moment but quickly added, “Maybe after Christmas.”

You could hear him let out a shaky breath. He didn’t deserve this from you, and it was likely you would regret this decision. But if it went badly, you would still have the chance to shout your memorised monologue at him.

“Yes. After Christmas is fine.”

He still stood in the doorframe, which forced you to push past him now that you had finished setting the table. With him so close for a split second, you could smell his familiar scent as your shoulder lightly brushed his arm. It hurt, and you wished you could take your words back, but they had already been said. Damn him for still being able to make you so weak.

For the rest of the evening the promise of a private meeting with Remus hung between you. But you didn’t spare him another glance, and he was gallant enough to not approach you again in the brief moments where you weren’t with either Lily, James or Sirius. 

In the early hours of the morning when it was time to leave, Lily led you to the front door. James and Sirius lay passed out in the living room, both of them having bitten off a little more than they could chew. 

“Call me for anything, yeah? I’ll always be there. And get home safe.”

You turned one last time to wave goodbye to Lily when you exited the front door. Remus was just putting on his coat in the hallway, and you wanted to leave quickly before he was ready.

“I will. Love you, Lils. Goodnight.”

Your boyfriend Kento currently had you pinned to the bed in prone bone, one hand gently wrapped around your throat as he rocked into you with slow, deep thrusts. Each one had his tip kissing your cervix with the pillow he placed under your hips.

He groaned quietly against your ear, his breaths coming out hot against your skin. After work he'd come home frustrated, tired, falling into your arms first before one thing led to another and you ended up in your shared bed.

“You feel so good, baby,” he breathed out. His voice came out deep and laboured, just making more tingles erupt in your lower stomach. He couldn't even hold himself back or attempt to be quiet, like he usually would.

“So good for me.”

He pressed a slow kiss to your neck as his hips continued to snap forward, the slight speed up in pace making you cry out. The way your walls felt around him, soft and warm and so, so wet—he was losing it.

“Kento,” you whined as your fingers clenched around the sheets underneath you. If you could look back you would be able to see his flushed face, the beads of sweat running down his temple, and his eyes heavy lidded and dark with pleasure. He'd needed you so fucking much all day and here you were, sounding perfect just for him and squeezing him so warm and tight, just the way he loved it.

His thumb brushed the side of your neck, and he turned his head more to moan right into your ear.

“Kento,” you cried out again, starting to feel that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach as you approached your high.

“‘m so close… Please!”

He just hummed, driving his hips forward to elicit another delicious moan from your pretty lips.

“I know, baby, I know. You're doing so perfect, so good,” he growled and let his forehead fall down onto your shoulder.

“You can hold on a little longer, pretty girl… Just a little more for me.”

He dropped his hand from your neck to support himself on the mattress, just so he could go a little harder. His lips pressed to the back of your shoulder, slightly parted, and he moaned against your skin. It wasn't only you who was out of it—his brain had completely shut off as well, chasing both of your pleasure after having to be away from you all day.

Kento cursed when he felt you clench around him and his pace turned irregular the closer he got to his own orgasm.

“Come for me, baby,” he mumbled, almost like a plea.

“Let go.”

It didn't take much more than that for you to unravel underneath him. He'd never seen anything more perfect than the way you buried your face in the sheets, the way goosebumps rose on your skin as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him—even after the months that you two had been together now. Your moans and cries of his name sounded like music to his ears.

He finally buried himself inside you and finished with a rough groan. You could feel the warmth as he filled you, some of it leaking down your thigh as the two of you came down from the intense pleasure.

“Fuck, sweetheart…”

It was like the words left his lips against his will, like he was high out of his mind from the orgasm you had just given him. His chest was still rising and falling rapidly, pressed against your back in the current position.

Both of your sounds eventually died down into rough pants until he finally came to, and pressed a soft kiss to your skin before carefully pulling out and shifting to pull you against his chest. His eyes were warm now, filled with affection instead of the raw, desperate want from before.

“My perfect girl,” he whispered against your temple. His warm, soft hands started running up and down your back, your waist, your arms—anywhere he could reach. He looked pretty like this, flushed and relaxed when he'd been so tense only half an hour ago.

“You're so beautiful… Gorgeous. God, I missed you so much, sweetheart, you have no idea.”

And you could tell he meant it when his arms tightened around your waist and he pulled you to lie on top of him. You could hear his heart steadily thumping in his chest in this position, still just a little faster than normal.

There wasn't much you could reply, not so soon after he'd just obliterated your brain (in a good way). You nuzzled into his warmth, pressing a kiss to his reddened chest and hoping that was enough for him to understand.

He smiled against your hair and gently pulled a blanket over the two of you. Cleaning up could wait, especially because he didn't particularly love the idea of getting up right now and leaving you alone for more than a second. He'd done enough of that today.

“I love you too,” Kento replied quietly.

Not that Sirius dislikes you, quite the opposite. It does, however, annoy him when James prioritises you over their obviously very important pranks. 

“Fine, okay. But we can’t postpone until next weekend, that’s too far away, Prongs. Why don’t you just bring your bird?” Sirius replies, not sounding too pleased about the idea himself.

That’s when James shoots him a look. That look that says Sirius has just said something he really didn’t like to hear. Also a look that Sirius has never seen on his best friend’s face before. 

“She’s not my bird, Padfoot. She’s my girlfriend, the love of my life, and more importantly, a human being. You saying that dehumanises her, it’s objectifying and—”

”Wow, alright. Since when do you know what those words mean?” Sirius retorts, looking confused. 

Remus is snickering into his morning tea, and Peter looks quite surprised as well. James has never particularly cared in the past. Hell, he used to speak exactly the same. 

James takes a bite of his scone.

”Since y/n taught me all about that kind of stuff. You wouldn’t believe the horrible things some of the guys here say about girls. I mean, we need to treat women like human beings, like equals, right? But that seems to be too hard for most boys here,” he starts, his mouth still full. 

“And it really bothers her, so I’ve made it my personal mission to put a stop to it, obviously,” he adds with a determined grin on his face. 

And so it is. While James had never previously cared much to educate himself on women’s rights or inequality or casual sexism, you had often ranted to him after overhearing the ways some boys speak about female students behind their backs. And if James Potter hated one thing in the world, it was definitely seeing you upset. If making you happy meant ending sexism completely, he wants to be the man for the job.

“Interesting,” Remus just says quietly into his mug, still looking amused more than anything else.

Sirius just shares a look with Peter.

“What a pile of rubbish,” he mutters, unfortunately loud enough for James to hear him.

James shoots him a cross look again.

”It’s not rubbish, Pads. And it’s not hard for us to change the way we speak about girls, is it?”

Sirius, Peter and Remus are quite surprised how serious he’s being about this.

”No, I guess not,” Sirius replies begrudgingly, even if it’s mostly just to make James relent.

When the Hogsmeade weekend finally comes, you do end up tagging along with all four of the boys. You’re walking ahead with James, both of your arms linked, while Peter, Sirius and Remus are walking together behind you, also talking among themselves. 

You split up to do some shopping first, leaving the boys to plan their pranks while you go into the sweet shop, and then reunite for a drink at The Three Broomsticks. The boys are already there by the time you enter the little pub which is bustling with other students and a few professors. 

“I already ordered you a butterbeer, love,” James says when you take a seat and carefully slides over a glass bottle before giving you a soft peck on the lips. 

“Thank you, James,” you reply and take a large sip. The familiar drink immediately cools you, especially after rushing around Hogsmeade in the warm weather. 

For a while the five of you sit and chat, share a laugh and just relax after the exhausting week of classes until a conversation from a nearby table catches your ears. 

“What a bitch,” you overhear, and, upon looking over, you see a table with two boys from another house that a girl is just now walking away from.

”Must be her time of the month,” the other replies, and they both break into snickers. 

The girl in question doesn’t react, probably no longer able to hear them over the noise of the pub. 

A chair scrapes the floor beside you, and, before you can react and say something yourself, James is already standing up and making his way to their table. 

“Did I just hear you call a woman a bitch?” 

He stops in front of them, looking very obviously ticked off. 

Sirius sighs beside you and stands up as well, mumbling something like ‘here we go’. There’s no way he’s going to let James get in a fight by himself. 

The two boys turn to look at them, not looking too happy that their conversation is being intruded on. 

“Wh—Yeah, so? Mind your business,” the first guy says, looking annoyed but also a tiny bit embarrassed.

”No,” James deadpans and takes a step closer. 

“You don’t get to speak about women like that, it’s disrespectful.”

A few people at tables surrounding them have started to look over at this point. 

“Like I said, mind your business. We were just playing around and she got all mad, alright? Chicks can’t even take a joke.”

You observe as the guy who’s doing all the talking rolls his eyes and the other one just nods.

James looks personally offended by now.

”First of all, she isn’t a chick. Secondly, I don’t know what your joke was, but it probably wasn’t funny. Saying something misogynistic and then reducing a woman’s reaction to her being hysterical reinforces a gendered stereotype. She isn’t a bitch, you’re just sexist.”

That pretty much shuts both of them up. Clearly they’ve never been confronted by another guy before when it comes to this.

James is about to return to your table when he turns back to add something.

”Oh, and so is asking a girl if she’s on her period, by the way. You don’t get to reduce a woman’s emotions to hormones, especially when her reaction was completely justified. My girlfriend says so.”

To your surprise, Sirius pipes up as well.

”Exactly, it’s objectifying.”

Not entirely true, but you can’t help a small, amused smile tugging at your lips. It seems like your influence on James has started to rub off on the others as well. 

When they both return to your table, leaving the two boys humiliated and confused, James shoots you a proud smile. 

“Did I say everything right, love? Or did I forget something?”

You squeeze his hand when he slides it into yours as if making sure you’re not upset. He knows that things like this can sometimes tick you off.

”No, that was good,” you reply, this time not feeling annoyed or angry in the slightest. It’s nice to see that your conversations with James are actually sticking and he takes what you say seriously. 

Remus finally pipes up, looking equally as amused as you.

”You’re really taking this seriously, aren’t you?”

James finally lets go of your hand, only to throw an arm over your shoulders instead.

So often you would dream about waking up to an empty apartment, bookshelves wiped clean, wardrobe empty. You would dream about running after a faceless shadow, desperate to reach it, but it would vanish in the distance every time. 

They were starting to mess with your head, and you needed them to stop.

Remus hadn't tried to contact you himself yet, but you hadn't expected him to either. He was clearly waiting for you to be ready.

"Come in, it's freezing," Lily quickly pulled you inside after only the first knock.

"You poor thing. If I'd known the snow would be this bad, I would have offered to come to you."

You hung up your coat and toed your boots off before following Lily into the kitchen, where she had already prepared tea. 

"Don't be silly, I asked you to meet," you said, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"Where's Harry?"

She placed a steaming cup of tea in front of you, which you gladly took into your hands to warm your freezing fingers. 

"Taking a nap upstairs. If he wakes up, you can go and see him later."

You watched her rummage around the kitchen before she joined you at the table with a bowl of leftover Christmas biscuits.

"These are all I can offer you, sadly. James is out shopping because we don't have any food in the house, but it's perfect since I get you all to myself," she said and finally took a seat opposite you at the kitchen table.

"James is shopping?" you replied, finding the idea of that rather funny.

Lily just shrugged with a smile.

"He loves muggle supermarkets for some reason. He was fascinated the first time I took him. But anyway, how have you been since—you know?"

Yes, how exactly had you been? 'Stressed' was a good way to put it. Worried, anxious. Letting Remus back into your life brought back memories—good and bad. But they were memories you had carefully stowed away during your travels, and having to deal with all of that again was overwhelming, to say the least.

"It's complicated," you answered hesitantly. 

"You know he asked me to meet with him in private on Christmas Eve? I didn't find a quiet moment to tell you. That's actually why I came by," you admitted.

Lily just smiled knowingly.

"You don't know if you should give him the chance," it wasn't a question, and she was right. She didn’t need your reply to confirm this either.

"I can’t take that decision away from you, you know that," Lily started. You were still staring down into the swirl that your spoon had left in your tea.

"But if you want my advice… When I stayed with you after he left, we talked a lot about what reason there could have been for him doing this to you. And obviously we had our theories," she smiled softly. Badmouthing Remus had been a good coping mechanism, especially in the beginning. 

"But in the end you’ll only know the truth if he tells it to you himself. I think that if you still feel like the truth could help you going forward, then talking to him might not be such a bad idea. The conversation should be to your benefit; you don’t owe him to hear him out."

Lily was sensible as always, way less irrational than what you had been thinking leading up to this. You paused for a moment.

The truth.

You had wanted to hear it for so long, but would it actually put your mind at ease? Putting the possibility of a relationship in the future with Remus aside for a moment, could it help you move on? Or would it just make it harder to continue than your oblivion had? Worse, would it make you forgive him when you weren't even sure if you were ready to?

In the end, you sent the owl to Remus that same evening. 

The day he would come to speak to you in your flat came sooner than you had hoped. It was just Remus, nobody you had to impress. But you wanted him to think that things had been going well, so you spent most of the morning tidying up and making the place look presentable. It was a good opportunity to stay busy too, your worries and fears clouding your brain as the time of his arrival came nearer and nearer.

You still lived in the old flat you had shared with him before he left you, although it looked very different now compared to back then. You had made it your own; all the traces of Remus were long gone. 

The knock on the door came five minutes early, you hadn't even had the chance to boil the kettle. Your heart immediately started beating faster with anxiety as you approached the door and unlocked it for him. 

He still looked slightly ill, just as he had at Christmas, but his eyes softened as soon as he saw you. He almost looked—nice.

"Hi," hearing his voice again made you gulp, already feeling the lump in your throat. You quickly stepped aside to let him in before he could notice. 

"Come in, it's cold."

He stomped the snow out of his boots on the mat in front of the door before stepping inside and sliding off his coat. He reached to hang it up next to yours, just as he had done every day two years ago. Back when things were still alright.  You had to force yourself to look away.

"Would you like some tea?" you asked quickly and he nodded.

"Yes, thank you."

You brushed past him, escaping into the kitchen with the excuse to make tea for both of you. You could hear him follow only a few seconds later as you put the kettle on. 

“Do you still take it with just milk?” The question had escaped before you could stop it.

He pulled back a chair at the kitchen table, making himself comfortable. 

"Yeah, just milk is fine."

Thank Merlin that your back was turned to him. The awkward conversation between the two of you felt painful, like two strangers who had known each other in a previous life. A happier life. 

You joined him at the kitchen table a few moments later, sliding his cup of steaming tea in front of him carefully. Both of you seemed unsure how to start. After all, it was a very difficult conversation to be had. 

"Are you cold?" You asked before the silence could stretch too long while not knowing anything better to talk about.

"I can turn up the heater."

He just shook his head, taking a sip of his tea.

"You don’t have to do that."

Uncomfortable silence followed. You tried to act busy by taking a few sips of your tea, but it just scalded the roof of your mouth instead of actually helping.

Eventually he spoke first.

"How—" He pauses. "How have you been?"

It was a silly question really, but at least it would give the two of you a starting point and end this horrible awkwardness. 

"I don’t really know," you answered honestly, while not wanting to spill too many of the details yet.

"How have you been?"

He smiled, but there was pain visible in his eyes.

"I’ve been better, it’s obvious."

You nodded, but deep inside you didn't exactly understand. If he wasn’t doing well with a situation that was purely his fault, why did he cause it in the first place? The two of you had been so happy, at least it had seemed that way to you.

It was becoming increasingly harder to hold yourself back from asking the question that had plagued your mind every single day for the past two years.

"So why did you leave?"

He sighed, his hands coming up to massage his face as if to soothe his distress.

"I thought it was the right thing at the time," replied Remus, not elaborating further. 

You could have guessed this. Remus had always had self-destructive tendencies, especially when it came to you. He denied himself the happiness everyone around him knew he deserved because of his lycanthropy, but you never expected it to get to the point of him hurting you too.

“I don’t really understand,” you replied, your voice a little harsher now than at the beginning of the conversation.

Remus seemed to shrink into his seat, which was remarkable for someone so tall. He looked a lot older like this, his face aged by worry and regret. 

“I had my reasons, y/n. After everything, I thought it was the best for both of us.”

His hands moved to fiddle with his cup, as if he was trying to keep them busy. How could he explain to you that he had regretted leaving as soon as he stepped out of the door? That he realised his mistake perhaps before he even made it? And he still did it anyway because he thought you would be better off. 

“And was it?”

Both anger and deep, painful sadness were making it increasingly harder to keep your emotions in check, so you kept your answer short. You had sworn not to cry in front of him, but that promise was harder to keep than you had anticipated.

“No,” he replied, looking right into your eyes when he answered the question. Within the inner turmoil he had experienced these past two years, it was the one thing he was still sure of. It had been anything but the right thing.

Your heart clenched as soon as he said it. What did he mean ‘no’? If at least he could be certain about making the right decision, then maybe one day you could come to peace with it too. All this was doing was riling up your emotions unnecessarily.

“But then how could you think you were doing the right thing?”

You felt a lump building in your throat as you asked this. His explanations were activating parts of your mind that you had long forgotten about. It was a shameful thought that there was still love in your heart when he had hurt you so deeply.

“I thought you deserved better—” he started, but you cut him off.

“How could you say that?”

The pain in your voice made Remus’s heart clench in his chest. Knowing that he was the cause for it, when you were the most wonderful person he knew, someone he had sworn to protect, broke him all over again. But he owed you this honesty without his emotions clouding it.

“Because it’s true. You’re kind, and intelligent, and beautiful. You had all these dreams of seeing the world, and you wanted to throw them away for me. I didn’t want to be the reason you gave them up. You deserve so much more than what I can give you.” You were close to interrupting him again, but he kept going this time.

“It took me a long time to realise that isn’t a reason to walk away like I did. It should have been a conversation, and I should have been transparent with you about what I was thinking. I’m sorry, y/n. I haven’t told you yet, it should have been the first thing I said to you. I’m so sorry.”

His self-reflection took away the fuel for the small fire that had started to build inside you. You didn’t reply and instead kept listening to his explanation.

“I wanted to reach out to you again, you know. But James was always talking about what you wrote in your letters from abroad, and I was just happy you were doing it. I didn’t want to ruin it all a second time, so I never said anything.”

When you were still quiet, he took another sip of his tea and continued.

"But I don’t think it’s fair for me to do all the talking. I just want to be honest with you, y/n. But your perspective is more important. I really want to hear from you, if you’re willing to tell me. Anything about what happened after."

The time it had taken for him to talk gave you the chance to compose yourself to the point that you were sure your voice wouldn’t come out shaky when you finally answered. 

This insightful Remus was quite a bit different from the Remus you had known two years ago when the two of you were pretty much fresh out of Hogwarts. There were new things to learn about him now. His previous inclination for letting his emotions lead and making rash decisions that he later came to regret had turned into a calmer, reflective—maybe even mature—Remus. This didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Alright,” you finally replied.

“What made you decide to meet me after all? You have every reason to never want to see me again. To hate me even.”

Since you had taken a few days before reaching out to him after Christmas, he had already started to think you no longer had any interest in it. 

You hesitated. What lay before you was the decision between honesty, being vulnerable, showing Remus that you were not as okay as you wanted him to think, and a lie. 

But in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to his face. 

“I did hate you for a bit while I was gone,” you couldn't bring yourself to look at him while you spoke. 

“You have to understand—I wanted to marry you, Remus. We were going to buy this beautiful house, and the future seemed so clear from where I was standing. Those dreams you talked about, I still had them, but I wanted you. After you left, I lost everything. Everything I had planned and hoped for.” 

You took in a deep breath, determined to not let your voice waver. You would not cry in front of him now either, not when you had been so strong until now.

“I never got any closure, but I think I still need it if I’m going to move on eventually.”

It didn’t feel right to talk about moving on for some reason. You had thought about nothing else for such a long period of time, but now, sitting before him, it didn’t feel right.

Remus, meanwhile, was having trouble not reaching out to comfort you instinctively. He no longer felt like he had permission to touch you, but hearing you talk about this was breaking his heart. He wanted to fix it, make everything right again, it just wasn’t so simple.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“You already said that.”

“I want you to know that I mean it,” his expression was earnest as he looked at you. Despite wanting there to be more between the two of you again, he had also known that he couldn’t expect you to feel the same way as he did. If there was any chance of him being in your life platonically instead, it was an easy decision to make. 

“I’ll do anything to help you move on. My goal was always your happiness, and I still stand by that.”

Him saying that lifted a small part of the resignations you had previously harboured in your heart. You found yourself thinking that maybe it could work like this. Maybe you could let him back into your life, maybe it would all turn out fine.

However, these thoughts were also terrifying. Hadn’t you thought exactly the same thing about him before as well? You had been so ready for the next step in your relationship, and yet Remus had thrown it all away overnight. No matter how much remorse he showed now, the fact wouldn’t change that he had gone through with it in the end. 

It was all moving a little too fast; he was getting too close. If you agreed to this now, then it would only be a matter of time for I’ll help you to turn into We’ll get through this together. And it was too soon for an us between you and Remus.

It couldn’t be that easy. For all you knew, the things he was telling you didn’t even have to be true.

“I don’t know,” you replied eventually.

Your mind was running a million miles an hour; this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. 

Remus looked confused as you said this. Your expression had changed in an instant. Had he said something to upset you?

“I don’t know if I can. I really don’t—”

He could see you were starting to spiral and get lost in your head. His fingers twitched around his teacup, desperately wanting to reach out and pull you out of it again, but he resisted.

”That’s okay. I didn’t mean it like you had to.”

The uncomfortable silence was back after that. Things had been going so well, he thought. Somehow he had ruined it again, maybe by going too fast. 

Your eyes were set on your teacup again. You had barely taken a sip, and the tea was probably cold now. Guilt, fear, confusion, maybe even some form of longing were running through you—it was too much. 

Remus knew it was the time for him to excuse himself, no matter how badly he wanted to stay and fix this. It was no longer his place.

“I should get going,” he said after almost a minute of awkwardness.

This seemed to snap you out of your thoughts.

”What? Oh, yes… Yes, maybe.”

You stood with him as he placed his dirty cup into the sink, but he shook his head.

”I can see myself out, it’s alright. Thank you for giving me the chance to see you, y/n. It was—“ he was about to say nice, but ended up stopping himself. 

Without another word he turned to leave, the soft click of the front door signalling his departure a few seconds later. And you were left behind, unsure if this was the outcome you had truly hoped for from this situation.