The war was as unforgiving as the rain; it doesn’t halt to wait on anyone.
It wasn’t hard to gain knowledge of the fact— it had dawned on you long ago, when it had started, feeling like an 8-wheeler truck falling off-balance before stumbling and plummeting on the very flesh of your chest. For every minute of every day, it had daunted you, as it unceasingly tugged at your heartstrings, making you fall deep and deep into the pit that you had fought yourself not to create.
You sighed for the nth time, breaking the stillness that you were all too familiar with inside of the room. You rubbed at the crease that had permanently placed itself between your brows; crumbling a copy of The Daily Prophet in your fist.
Disappearances, killings, disruptions. Just the usual.
Slumping in your chair, you tossed the paper in the trash, barely missing the rim. You couldn’t care less; the sound of water drumming on the roof and windows filling your ears, the soft drizzle only coming to your awareness as you focused more on your surroundings.
“Any familiar faces?” An even familiar voice asked, rigid body leaning on the doorframe. Remus cleared his throat, gazing at you with warm, hazel eyes.
You shook your head, and his posture had visibly relaxed, entering the small and cramped study as you reached for a pack of cigarettes. He stopped before you, inclining himself beside the table.
“Smoking again?”
As you looked at your shoes guilty, he quirked a brow, letting his lips be pulled into a frown. He clicked his tongue, worry threading onto his features as he studied your figure.
It was clear that you lacked sleep— tense— and the stress of the upcoming war has catched up to you. He was certain that he looked the same, but it seemed as though smoking had been your only escape in the world full of chaos, and if the Dark Lord doesn’t come and kill you himself, he’s sure that your recently profound habit would have easily beat him to it.
You continued on avoiding his stare, knowing how it had made you fall like putty in his hands, feeling around his desk for a lighter. He’s quick to let out a defeated groan, pointing at a nearby drawer, fixing his gaze on you as you finally lit the bud; taking a drag and turning away to blow the smoke out of his way.
He smiles coyly at your action, placing a gentle hand to your chin, before making you face him completely. He plucked the stick that hung loose from your lips, slowly raising it to his, and inhaling through his mouth.
He didn’t look away from you the whole while; analyzing every dip, curve, mole, and freckle that had adorned your face. Though the curtains had done a decent job on shielding the room from the moonlight, a sliver of it still filtered through the cracks, illuminating your bareness and making you look all the more ethereal in his mind.
Every mark on your skin had formed a little constellation akin to the ones in the night skies, waiting to be discovered by his loving stare— and every one had seemed to trace back down to your lips.
Remus fingered the soft muscle, parting it slightly as your breathing slowed, likely turning shallow, with thoughts racing and racking through your brain. Sure, you had been dating him for quite some time now, yet the butterflies in your stomach still never seemed to whirl away when he looked at you the way that he is right now.
Visible on him was tiredness; mingling — and being overpowered by — with his adoration, sincerity, and tenderness. You took the cigarette from his mouth once more, perching it atop the ash tray that lay forgotten by the sidelines.
He blew the offending grey smoke just above your head, coughing slightly and laughing as you swatted at his leg. “You shouldn’t have done that, you know.”
He raised a challenging brow, his expression speaking volumes for him before he even did. “As should you.”
“Touché, Mr. Lupin.” You rolled your eyes, though there was an easy smile present on your face. Remus thought that you had looked even more beautiful, if that was even possible.
Cupping his cheek with your hand, you traced at his scars, gazing into his eyes that resembled autumn leaves; even holding the deepness of a forest, inviting you to explore their mysterious depths.
“I love you so, so much.” You muttered softly, now running a finger over his boyish grin, indulging yourself in his provided warmth. “I can’t wait for this war to be over.”
He nodded without missing so much as a beat, looking over at you like you were the only person in the world that had mattered. “When it is, I’m going to marry you.”
You noticed his gaze trail down your hand, peering at the ring that bore a small emerald, shining brightly in the dim light. It had sparked a hope in you; a fire, licking at your insides, and fitting at your cheeks.
Moving forward, the chair let out a screech that bellowed in the wind, but all of your attention was on the man in front of you. You leaned in just as he bowed his head low, finally catching your lips in his, which you had both intended the moment the fag had met your awaiting mouth.
The kiss was slow; it was passionate. It had conveyed all of his emotions to you, and the dire desire of wanting to hold onto one another for as long as you possibly could. It wasn’t rushed, like the world outside was, and it had just been Remus and you; inside the walls of the house of the person you had called your home.
Amidst the war, he was your safe place— your light. He was your ground, your dream, and your heart. You savored the moment, chasing a spark; knowing that anytime soon, it could be pryed right out of your hands and trashed, crumbling apart.
“I love you, too.”