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"You're beautiful," He murmurs breathlessly. His eyes are transfixed on her frame. Teacup in her hand, smiling, she sips thoughtfully.
Her eyes are scanning his shallow face. Gentle pattering of rain on the windows fills the silence that echoes off the stone walls of his office. Books, chipped mugs, miscellaneous papers are dotting surfaces. She stands from the armchair in the corner, her bare feet hit the cold wood below them.
"You're tragically unaware of your own beauty, Remus." She mutters. She was now in front of him, peering into his swirling eyes.
His expression is something to behold. His breath hitches in his throat. The deafening silence makes him wonder if she can hear his heart pounding in his chest. He's vulnerable under her gaze. He was a grown man, tall and slender, yet she made him feel so small and defenseless. She was irresistible. The euphoric feeling he got from hearing her voice, watching her fall asleep beside him, he would comfort himself with the thought of her those lonely days he spent locked in his sleeping quarters after a full moon.
He was addicted to her.
But she was too good for him.
He didn't deserve her. He was a liar, he was a manipulator, he hurt people, he was a monster. She was young, gorgeous, had the whole world to her disposal and there he was, risking her whole future just so he could be with her.
He was selfish.
Her smile faded, brows knitted together. "What's on your mind love?"
"Nothing," He snaps back to reality, his lips twitch into a half-effort smile, "Just thinking about how you have to leave soon."
She doesn't believe him, he knows it, but she keeps her mouth shut and closes her eyes. Leaning into him he moves his arm to put around her shoulder, her head rests on his shoulder. Shame manifests in his stomach, butterflies of guilt flourishing in him.
Only if she knew.
*
"Remus please," She breathed. "How many times do I have to say it?"
He turned from the window to face her. Her eyes were swimming with an emotion he couldn't pin. She stood a bit away from him, jaw clenched. "I love you, I don't care that this is wrong -"
"You should." He snaps.
His words linger in the air grimly. They're icy in a room that should be filled with warmth. The remorse in his voice feels like a deep echo in an empty void.
"You should care," His voice breaks. "I'm risking your education, your future -"
"When are you gonna learn I don't give a fuck?" She cuts him off. An all but amused laugh leaves her mouth - his is dry in return.
"You are so worried about keeping us safe and not hurting me to the point where you're so wrapped up in it, it's happening," Angry hurt dances in her eyes. He swallows thickly.
She takes a step forward and he flinches. A little piece of her heart tears. "Why can't we just *be*, Remus? I don't want you to keep running from this."
Her hand reaches up to cup his face. The warmth of her hand sends bolts through his body. Her very touch is crippling to him.
He forces down a choke - the guilt was becoming too much.
"I'm sorry." His hand reaches up to cover hers. "I despise the consistent shame I feel because of this. I don't want to hurt you, or make you feel less than,"
He looks down at the floor.
"I recognize that you don't care, but -"
"But what?" She demands. "What is so awful about this, seriously?"
He inhales sharply. "I love you. I truly do love you immeasurably," his eyes find their way to hers. "I'm just worried that this will ruin your life."
"I understand," she responds quietly. Her hand drops from his face. "But I'm asking you to trust me when I say I'm not concerned about that, okay? I'm asking you to just be with me."
He leans down to connect their lips. She kisses back, desperation sprouting within the motion. How dare he do this to her. How could he? He said he loves her yet he lies to her every month.
He was foolish. Irresponsible. A cheat. Yet, their lips stayed connected. His hand remained on the small of her back.
Disgraceful.
*
Electricity filled the room as their bodies vibrated in sync. It was amazing to him how was obsessed with her touch, physically jolting himself towards her in desperate motion.
Watching her do the same for him was sublime. He was lost in the majesty of her love. Her body moving to meet his, out of need, out of admiration.
He leaned forward, putting their foreheads together as their lips brushed each other. Noises of pure bliss spilled out as he fiercely tried to get across that he was hopelessly in love with her.
Her cries for him had goosebumps lining his form, and with a sharp motion they shuddered together.
No matter what happened, he couldn't leave her now. Not after giving in. He couldn't even if he wanted to.
She was the ecstasy he felt in that moment. She was the warmth he felt. She was the knot that had finally broken loose in his stomach, the deep groan that found its way into his throat.
"I love you." He says quietly.
She looks up from the crook in his neck and smiles softly. She was curled up into his chest, his shirt still burning against his skin. He refused to take it off.
"I love you too."
*
"Snape was our professor again yesterday," She hummed.
She shifted from the place on his lap to look at him. Her piercing stare hit him like a punch in the gut. "We're writing an essay on werewolves."
"Is that so?" He croaks.
Internally, he curses the weakness of his voice. He knows what's coming, he knows that she knows. Shes gonna leave him like everybody else.
His heart rate picks up, his stomach twists and turns as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He's cold despite her place upon his lap.
You've been through this before.
Stop.
Calm down, you're making yourself look weak.
Take it like a man, the man you wish you were.
He stiffens.
"They're quite interesting, you know," She softly moves the hair out of his face.
Part of him wants her off of him. Part of him wants to scream. He wishes he could sink into the floor, yet stay right there with her at the same time. His jaw is clenched so hard his teeth start to hurt.
The familiar pang of anxiety swims through his chest. The beating of his heart is in the back of his throat. He feels as though he could throw up.
"Why was Snape our professor?"
He stays quiet, his eyes move from her to the wall in front of them. He finds a fixed point and does not dare to move.
"I don't mind that you're a werewolf, Remus." She whispers. "I just wish you would've told me so I could be there for you."
A familiar tinge is in his throat. He doesn't trust himself. He's driven away everybody else, what's to say he won't do the same to her?
His parents.
Sirius.
His life is unstable, failing to keep a job for more than a few weeks until they spit at his feet and kick him out. He couldn't imagine having her deal with that. The nights he spent alone, hungry because he couldn't afford food that week. The way this world was set up to treat people like him. He couldn't - he wouldn't let her experience that.
"Please say something, anything," She pleads.
"You should've ran the moment you found out," His eyes don't leave the wall. "I'm a monster, I hurt and drive people away. I'm no good for you and will end up destroying you as I do everyone else."
He does not dare to meet her gaze. His chest is tight, the feeling so immense it makes his hand hurt.
Her eyes, brimmed with tears, scanned his face. "Love -"
"I am unfit to be with you. You're young, healthy, gorgeous; your entire life is ahead of you."
"Is that your choice though?" She spits out her words as fire. The resentment in her voice made him wince. "Who are you to decide what is good for me?"
He's quiet, eyebrows scrunched together as though it would help him conjure his response.
"I'm nobody to decide what's good for you," He says bluntly. "but I know me better than you do, and I know what I'm capable of."
"Remus, you are the only thing in this world good for me. I can't leave you."
"I can't leave you either!" He almost yells, causing her to flinch. "I am so incredibly selfish for this, but I can't even if I wanted to. I can't resist the urges, they're too strong, they feel right when the harsh reality is, it's wrong."
His fists were balled now, knuckles white. She stood in front of him, having jumped up from his roar of anger and wringing her hands nervously.
"I love you and want to be with you but the thought of hurting you, breaking you, keeps me up at night."
He watched her swallow the lump in her throat and stood to meet her eyes.
"If you love me as much as you say you do, take me."
His hands find their way to her face. Their foreheads resting on each other's, breaths mingling, he strokes her cheek with his thumb.
"If you really mean all the things you say, take me," She softly repeats. "Trust me, Remus. Trust yourself. Know that you are deserving of love and that if you let me, I'll show you."
His mind is fuzzy. The way she looks at him through her lashes has a grip on him.
"Is this really what you want?"
She kisses him, her lips silently screaming yes. Their hot mouths dance together as his hand falls from her face and move to her waist, pulling them together and deepening their union.
He lets her in. A small crack splits in the walls he spent years building and he helps her through all the sharp edges of the broken stone. She twists through the thick barrier, struggling to reach the middle where he stands, figuratively naked. All of the ugly, the hurt, the joy and beauty exposed for her to see.
He was her's, she was his. She accepted him - loved him.
It was a feeling like no other.
*
Word had gotten around about the professor's 'condition' and he was promptly fired from his position. He wasn't particularly upset, expecting this to happen sooner or later, but a funny sensation resided in his gut as he cleared out his desk.
"Can I come see you this summer?"
He turned around to where she was sat behind him on the floor, organizing his books into a trunk.
"How will you explain it to your family?"
He wasn't against it - in fact he himself had been dreading the up coming summer, fearing they wouldn't be able to see each other.
"Since I'm of age, they wouldn't be able to do anything would they," She hummed conversationally. "although, since they're muggles I suppose I could say magic business."
He grinned at her wit, and moved to her to sit beside her on the creaking wood. "I don't see why not,"
She smiled and leaned into him, closing her eyes.
In all honesty, he wanted more than to have occasional sleepovers and dinner dates.
He wanted to come home to her. He wanted to make tea with her in their kitchen, curl up in their living room, by their fireplace. He wanted to have pictures of them and their adventures strung upon their walls, have their dinner made with vegetables grown in their garden.
In the past, he'd think of these things as a possibility. When she'd fall asleep next to him he couldn't help but imagine her asleep next to them in their bed, in their bedroom. Then it was but a figment of the imagination, seeming so out of reach.
"Move in with me."
Her eyes flew open. She lifted her head up from his shoulder, eyebrows raised.
"Sorry that was - that was more blunt than intended." He stammered. His face was pink with embarrassment now, and he avoided her stare. "I want you to live with me. You don't have to of course - I don't have a very big home, but -"
"I want to Remus."
Certainty laced her voice as she brought her hand up to his hair, stroking his hazelnut curls back. "But how will we sort everything out? I'd have to figure out how to transport all my things to wherever you are, and -"
"We'll figure it out together my love," His hand met hers and he squeezed it. "We'll figure everything out together."
His voice wavered a bit, thinking back to his home. It was small, having only one bedroom and one bathroom, creaking stairs connected the two floors and his kitchen was much outdated. It was old, but it was the most he could afford.
He pressed his chapped lips to her forehead.
"I am in love with you." He muttered, lips not leaving the warmth of her skin.
His hand raised to move a bit of hair back from her face, and she pulled back, eyes locked in his.
"I'm in love with you too."
Love felt as though it wasn't strong enough to describe the feelings he withheld.
She was his warmth, his saving grace. Her loving eyes seared him like firewhiskey, it burned him with unmistakable passion, it left him wanting more. Her after taste was sweet, lovely. Moments spent with her were heavenly, above what earth could contain.
She was addictive and he was far from sober.
*