Work Text:
"Remus?" Ada stood in the kitchen doorway, staring wildly at the sight of her partner looming over broken glass. He did nothing but hang his head and look, swaying slightly.
The satchel she was holding slid from her shoulder when she rushed to him, and placed a gentle hand on his back as she looked up into his face. Strands of his hair were hiding his eyes. His face was flushed red and twisted into a deep-set frown, twitching with tension.
"Remus, honey, what's wrong?"
"Don't touch me."
"What...?"
"I SAID DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" Remus burst out of Ada's grasp in hysterics and begun to slowly back himself away from her with a splayed, outstretched hand. Now clearly visible, she could see that there was blood soaking through the forearm of his sleeve and a tear in the fabric, revealing a gash.
"You're bleeding--"
"Let me. Let me."
"For the love of God, Remus, you are drunk. Let me help you."
He was practically growling. "Do not come near me."
"Or what, you'll hurt me?"
Even inebriated, Remus knew he could not hurt her. Not... like this, at least. He had no rebuttal, and was now even more irritated to have been rendered speechless. Ada advanced, took him by the arm and gently rolled his sleeve up to his elbow, thick red blood clinging to the fabric and drawing up in strings as it was peeled away. She grimaced at the sight.
"How long have you been bleeding?"
"Don't know," he muttered, turning his cheek.
"How did this happen?"
"I... threw the glass... and..."
His eyes shifted back and forth, searching, as if he couldn't remember. And then-- a haunting realization.
"I did it on purpose." He was so matter of fact that it almost didn't register with her. But there was a waver to his voice that indicated what the thought did to him; how easily it could have been a much graver sight Ada had come home to. All she could do was stare wildly.
"I wanted to make sure I still bled red. I thought it might come out black. Like tar." He held his arm up to inspect it.
Ada could say nothing for a moment before she moved to wet a cloth for him, muttering, "you're drunk," as she went.
Remus felt a pain grow in the back of his throat. The kind of pain that comes when you have an overwhelming urge to cry or sob, despite yourself. He welcomed the tears, but there were none left, and little to begin with.
"Do you know how badly I want you to love me?" He asked her.
She turned the sink handle and shook the washcloth out. "Remus, you know that I love you." She spoke to him like a child, piss-drunk as he was.
"No. You only love me now."
She gently guided him to the kitchen table to sit and kneeled in front of him, beginning to dab the cloth at his cut. "I'll always love you, Remus."
"You love me now because I'm new and exciting. I'm the... the older man you're with because it makes you feel mature, right?"
Ada faced him. He suddenly seemed very lucid, and his words were pointed and searing.
"Do you feel like you've got a fresh take on the world? You... you're enjoying coming back to my house every evening and playing... adult. You like being held after we've fucked."
"What the fuck are you talking about...?
"But one day... One day you're going to meet a younger man. One that has more to offer you, one that breathes life into you. He'll whisk you away overseas, and... and let you meet his family. He'll be pretty. And when you fuck... he won't hold you. But you'll like the way he never hurts you, even when it's rough. And you'll never think about me again."
She, again, was left speechless, and now deeply wounded as well. Her eyes welled up but she looked down and resumed cleaning, more vigorously this time, before he could see tears fall. "Why are you being so mean?" She whispered.
I love you so much it scares me. I'm sorry. You scare me. It makes me resent you. I'm pushing you away first. I love you. I'm sorry.
Silence.
She finished wiping away the excess blood on his skin. "Episkey," she croaked, nearly inaudibly. The lips of the cut magically sealed, leaving only a faint red line as evidence of its existence in the first place. Quickly she stood and threw the cloth onto the table, making for the bedroom to be alone, but stopped suddenly in the kitchen doorway.
"I understand that you're struggling right now, Remus. But tonight you will not fuck me nor hold me. And to your surprise, I will still be here in the morning. We'll talk then. Sober." She stepped to leave, but caught herself. She turned back to look upon him for one last time that night. "You will never do this to me again."
And he never did.