Work Text:
A dimly lit room, sparsely decorated. Remus is alone, pacing and raking his fingers through his already messy hair. He is full of despair, and also embarrassment.
“This is weird,” he mumbles, then takes a deep breath. “Ok. Here goes. Severus. In case I die, I have no other way to get this to you without risking everything. I’m putting this in the Hogwarts Pensieve tonight and I hope to Merlin you’ll find it. That is, if you hear me say this, you obviously have found it. Er, if you’re anyone but Severus, please stop viewing this right now, ok? Shit, I’m rambling again. Call me an incoherent imbecile one more time, would you?” He chuckles weakly before he sighs and closes his eyes.
“Severus. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this last year must have been for you, and I’ve only made it worse. I know you couldn’t tell me about Albus. I shouldn’t have taken it personally. I should have had more faith in you. I’ve made so many mistakes. I… Merlin. There’s so much I want to tell you. I miss talking to you. I miss your voice whispering in my ear. I miss your wonderful, talented hands touching my body as if I were worth it. I miss looking into your eyes and seeing a future for us.”
Remus' eyes are bright as he opens them again.
“I’ve been weak. You always told me to grow a spine, and I’ve failed you yet again. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for giving in to Dora, but I need to tell you nevertheless: I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I love you. I’ll always love you. I should have told you, over and over again. You’re everything to me, and I need you to know that, even if you feel differently about me by now.”
A clock is ticking in the background; other than that, there is no reaction to his words.
“I hope I’ll get the chance to prove it to you,” he adds, quietly.
***
Silence, together with the last of the debris and dust, settles over the scene like a heavy blanket in the aftermath of Dolohov’s blasting curse. Among the rubble, two unmoving amber orbs glitter faintly in the light of the last surviving torch. Everything is still. Suddenly, a peculiar, silvery blue tear leaks out of the corner of Remus’ eye. It trickles down his bruised temple, leaving no trail in the dust, and glides smoothly over his dirty, tangled hair. For a moment, it pools at the feet of the half-revealed spiral staircase, before the cold ground finally absorbs it, unseen by anyone but a cracked stone gargoyle.