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“Darling?”
Your hands were busy tracing patterns through Remus’s light smattering of chest hair that you hardly registered his voice. Swirls and circles redirected each strand until you could close one eye and see only a soft sea of brown willows standing upright, like a field of wheat in the wind, peaceful and plentiful upon his chest.
Remus’s hand came up on hold you own. His fingers delicately wrapped around yours as he pulled them away from his sternum to rest just below his chin. He offered your knuckles a gently kiss, watching as you finally turned your countenance up to meet his gaze.
“Darling, where do you see us in five years?” he asked, fingers tracing over your knuckles, rubbing the slight moisture his kiss had left into your skin.
You couldn’t help but avert your gaze. Your eyes followed the line of the blanket that laid low over your boyfriend’s hips, only a few darker hairs hinting at his nudity below. You bit your lip as you thought.
“I’m not really sure,” you managed to whisper as you felt tears begin to form, cresting over your lower lids. Marlene and her family had just died a few days ago. Things only seemed to be looking worse. And you had been trying your hardest not to imagine a future in which you didn’t survive this, or even worse, a future in which you did but Remus did not.
“Please, just humor me, will you?” Remus asked. You could see him crossing his ankles under the blankets and stretching his thighs, something he did when he needed to alleviate tension.
“Okay,” you said, pushing yourself up to lay better beside him.
Remus turning, pillowing his head with his hand so he could watch you better.
“I’d like to think this war won’t last long,” you whispered into the space between you, hoping the setting sun might offer a cover for the clear worry on your face, proof you were lying. “And then when we are settled, we could get married.”
At the word ‘married,’ Remus hummed his approval, moving his free hand to run up and down your hip and waist, slowly but surely pulling your body closer to him.
“And maybe you’d start teaching or doing advocacy work for the Ministry. I’d–” you cut yourself off, “I honestly don’t know what I want to do.”
“Other than marry me?” Remus said, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.
As response, you leaned forward and kissed his nose before sliding closer and burying yourself into his embrace.
“What about you?” you whispered into his neck, allowing him to engulf you in his arms. This talk of the future was making your heart lighter, you realized. You smiled against his skin as he began to speak.
“Much the same,” he said, “Definitely marry you.”
You laughed, humming much as he had.
“And I think I’d like to teach. We’d move to Hogsmeade. Buy a shop so you could run a small bookstore and I’d spend the weekends in town with you.”
“How dare you tempt me with a small bookstore!” you squealed, realizing he’d found something you definitely could see yourself wanting to do.
Remus chuckled, “You could focus on fiction instead of the textbooks and histories normally sold in the area. You could have a sections for romance and fantasy, host readings and book clubs, maybe even decorate a children’s corner like the Nysan Forests.”
“The Nysan Forests?” you asked, shooting your head upward, just narrowly avoiding Remus’s chin. He pulled his chest back to take in your surprised face.
“Like the–” you started but Remus cut you off. “Yes, I started reading them because you love them so much. And you are right. They’re brilliant. And the escapism was quite necessary given everything.”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, the first true, broad, genuine smile you had in days since losing the McKinnons. You practically tackled Remus with a hug. Had you not already been tangled in each other’s limbs in the comfort of his bed, the crash would have been devastating.
“I love you,” you said, squeezing him with all the strength your body had left to give.
Remus held you just as tightly, rolling slightly side to side as he gently kisses what skin of yours he could reach.
“I love you, too, darling,” Remus whispered against your head, “Though should I say fiance?”
“No!” you screamed, trying to pull away, though you knew he wouldn’t let you. “Just because we want to get married doesn’t mean we’re engaged!”
“Well, does this?” Remus asked, letting go of you to reach his hand back under his pillow, pulling out a small ring box that must have been immensely uncomfortable on his head all these hours.
He didn’t even get a chance to open it before you said yes.