"Hey. Don't do that, you'll hurt yourself."
Eyes crossing each other, softly looking, one concerned the other pair rather confused.
"Stop it."
Realizing, the rather confused pair of eyes, look down on the hands of their owner, tearing apart the skin of his cuticle.
Skin breaking, sharp comforting pain.
"Sorry."
When he was like this - and he had his days - he didn't like to talk much, preferred to keep himself company, by himself, where he knew that he would find comfort, where he was certain that he wouldn't hurt someone; except himself.
"Don't apologize, Remus."
He didn't say Moony.
Moony, Moony, Moony.
Moony never fully left his mind, not in class, not when talking to James, to his mother, not when sleeping. Even in his dreams, he wasn't able to escape Remus.
His Remus, his moony.
But on days like these, on days like these Remus didn't need Sirius to be how you'd expect Sirius to be.
He didn't need an arrogant fool, trying to convince everyone that he is exactly what he isn't: an arrogant fool, full of himself, enjoying life.
On days like these, Remus needed Sirius to remind him, that he is Remus.
That he is more than Moony, more than a monster.
Moony.
Sirius can tell that, sometimes, rather rarely, his nickname - given by his dearest friends, who meant no harm, who only meant to comfort him - bruises Remus' precious heart.
It was not often to happen, but Sirius knew himself to be mindful and aware of his words.
And his actions.
One hand raised itself, slightly trembling, approaching Remus' bare shoulder.
Slowly, to not scare Remus Sirius brushes his warm loving fingers against the cold pale skin.
Remus hated days like these, hated the way he felt defenseless against what he truly was, hated the way he isn't able to show Sirius the love he feels.
"Thank you."
"Anything for you, my Moony."
Additional ending:
Because sometimes, Remus needed someone to remind him that he was enough to be loved, that his entire self was lovable, and that Sirius, his Sirius, loved all of him.
Everything, unconditionally.