Chapter Text
The cracks of the old wooden door were muffled to Remus’ ears, as he was wearing soundproof headphones -he got anxious if there were too many sounds at the same time.
His keys were hooked on the loop of his trousers. He grabbed them while humming ‘Trouble’ by Cage The Elephant.
He easily picked the key that belonged to the lock, it was his favourite key. The one whose spikes were higher on the left -his favourite side- and the flatter one -he preferred that too. He smiled because he remembered, not that he had any trouble with memory, but because he always had a routine.
In this routine, he had to leave the house thirty minutes earlier to get to his therapy session on time. Well, maybe to get five minutes earlier than he had to, but who cares? Remus. Remus cares. A lot. That’s why he’s so glad about getting the right key.
If something went wrong, he would become unsettled. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, he knew this, but it’s best if it didn’t happen.
He stepped down the stairs, skipping the two middle ones. He stepped two and missed two. The bus station was a couple blocks away from his loft, therefore, he arrived quickly, and Remus was thankful for that.
He preferred to walk near the markets and departments than the street, as it was too noisy, and the cars were too fast for Remus’ liking. However, this doesn’t mean he couldn’t be near them, it was just a preference.
Either way, the bus arrived six minutes later, at five o’clock, as Remus had thought, as it always happened.
On the bus, he decided to stand up. His right hand grabbing the satchel’s strap and his left one getting a hold from a tube. He watched the usual houses, shops and posting signs out of the window, and waited for a long-forgotten, graffitied, parked van to appear. When he finally saw it, he pressed the button to let the driver know he was getting off the bus. The van meant he was close to the therapist’s building.
He stepped out easily and walked to his left, then he turned and came across the flat.
He checked his watch. Three minutes earlier, Remus decided to wait.
Three minutes later, he rang the bell and took off his headphones.
“Yes? With whom do you have an appointment?” Marlene, Pomfrey’s (and other therapists who worked there too) assistant, said through the speaker.
“Er, with Doctor Pomfrey.”
He heard a sight and a chuckle from her, which sounded a little weird as the whole building was old, including the technology.
“Remus, you are here at- quarter to six! What a surprise!” The sarcasm was noticeable even when they were speaking through metal. “You have to give me your secret, I’m never on time. People tend to insult me.”
Remus smiled even though she couldn’t see him. Marlene could be straightforward which led to being a tad mean, yet in Remus’ opinion it was hilarious. He was really fond of her.
“Well, if you keep me out here, then I won’t be so punctual.”
“I haven't forgotten about your sweetness, either. ” She said before the door made a noise, indicating Marlene actually had the heart to let him in.
He thanked her and pushed the door open. Then, he continued his routine. He walked up to the stairs, not choosing the lift because it was so old, he heard unusual noises coming from the chains.
When he got up, he chatted with Marlene a bit. She told him she had a date that night, and he updated her on his new cooking lessons. They got along easily, and Remus didn’t get as nervous with her as he did with other people.
Already sitting in the waiting room, Remus waited patiently while reading a book he had started two days ago. It was called ‘The Song of Achilles’ and he couldn’t stop reading it, let alone putting it down. It basically followed Remus wherever he went.
He loved reading because he enjoyed caring deeply about the characters, living different plots, and imagining worlds he knew he wouldn’t have thought of if it wasn’t for the books.
Not only that, but he could lose himself so easily in between words. He usually thought about some quotes for days, analysing them over and over again until he came up with at least five different meanings.
He also adored learning about the characters’ personalities and their history.
Every sentence, every scenery, every dialogue was thought carefully, and Remus took equal time to appreciate each author’s effort.
It was then, when he heard Marlene laughing loudly, that he took his eyes off the page. In the room, there were only two people waiting, both quiet elders. But now, there was a man, probably in his mid-twenties, talking animatedly to Marlene. He was leaning on her desk, yet it didn’t look like flirting, still, they were obviously close. Remus tried to pay them no mind, but it was hard given the fact that the man was absolutely gorgeous.
His hair was tied in a half ponytail, letting his fully pierced ears uncovered. He wore a sleeveless band shirt, and the holes were pretty large, which let the side of his to the eyesight. He wore baggy ripped jeans and underneath he had fishnet tights. Remus couldn’t quite see his face, and honestly he didn’t care. And if he was actually being honest, he was very intrigued and wanted to catch a glimpse of him.
He shook his head and continued reading, the only man in his life right now was Achilles. Brave, reckless, proud, beautiful Achilles.
Unfortunately, -and to Remus’ surprise- the man took the seat beside him, despite the other five empty ones. With a discreet glance, he noticed he was tapping his knee with one hand and with the other taking hold of his phone. But then he turned it off, and Remus could feel his eyes on him.
A few seconds later, he quoted,
“Name one hero who was happy.” Remus just couldn’t not look at him. He immediately regretted it. The man was utterly stunning. He had sharp and pronounced features that, ironically, resembled the Greek statues. His eyes were a striking light blue, almost grey. His lips were just lovely: pink and shaped so delicately. Finally, there was his nose, which was adorned with a piercing that completed the punk look. Nevertheless, he carried a light, trustworthy and fun aura.
He was wearing a tender smirk and when he got Remus’ attention, he continued to recite. “You can’t.”
Remus couldn’t help but smile, and he had to answer him. It was his duty as a fan of the book. “I can’t.”
“I know. They never let you be famous and happy. I’ll tell you a secret.” He was now acting it -rather dramatically, Remus must add- as if he was truly Achilles
“Tell me,” Remus said, acting the same way. He was Patroclus then.
“I’m going to be the first.” He smiled. “Swear it.”
“Why me?” He smiled back.
“Because you are the reason. Swear it.”
“Well, too bad. I’m straight and I love Briseida.” He deadpanned, and got a laugh in response.
“You know, that would have saved me a lot of tears in the end.”
“I haven’t finished it yet,” Remus gestured to his book. He had read ¾ of it, “so shush.”
The man raised his hands in surrounded but kept smiling. Remus returned to his book, and the man to his phone.
Five minutes later, Remus was called.
His session had been fine. He talked about his constant thoughts, which seemed to taint every happy view with a pessimistic and miserable one. At least he hadn’t cried, and that was always good. Except he still felt down and tired.
Pomfrey had told him they were going to work it out together, they just needed to find the end of the string. She used this metaphor often.
The ball of yarn was a particular situation that bothered Remus, and to untangle the problem, they had to seek for the end of the strand. Then they would pull it slowly, meaning they were dealing with the issue.
Before leaving, he wished good luck to Marlene on her date. The man was gone.