the musings of the trees
The heating was fucked again, that Remus knew. There was something he could always rely on, and that was that his shitty windows in his small apartment would let in a draft - no matter the time of year, no matter the weather, which meant that when the heating wasn’t working, Remus knew as soon as he woke up. He sighed, the aching in his joints settling in now he was awake, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep for longer. Remus had been exerting himself too much - he should have expected it would catch up with him. What frustrated him was that he’d been doing everything right. He’d taken his meds, he went to therapy, he listened to his doctors when they told him about his energy management; he had forgotten that it didn’t give him more energy, it just helped him live his life closer to how he wanted to.
He took a deep breath, feeling it rattle around his lungs, hitting his ribs almost as if he’d swallowed the air instead. A part of him had expected that he would need to stop; that he would need to be prepared for that moment when he woke up and had no energy to get himself out of bed. He felt the aching begin when he was with Sirius in the art gallery, and he knew he’d forgotten how closely it crept alongside him. Most days his fatigue was mild, somewhat unnoticeable, like a dull aching behind his eyes, but the severity would fluctuate, and sometimes that aching built into a throbbing pain that shot through his body in time with his heartbeat.
Everything hurt, he felt as if he had run a marathon, and his brain felt hazy, almost as if a heavy fog had settled in front of it.
He groaned, burying himself further into his bed, hoping no one needed him today.
Remus had always been seen as a sickly child; his parents thought that every other week he caught the flu so it was to be expected. It was only when he began to get older that his parents thought something wasn’t quite right. Almost every doctor he saw thought it was simply depression, or insomnia (as he found sleeping during the more severe periods difficult). To a certain extent, they weren’t wrong, his fatigue did lead to the development of depression during his teenage years, but it was more than that.
He knew it was more than that, and insisted his parents take him to more doctors, but they only confirmed it was depression and insomnia; neither of which explained why his joints and muscles would ache with even the slightest of movement, despite not having done anything all day. It wouldn’t explain why he had all the symptoms of the flu, without being able to have caught it. It didn’t explain why his heart would race and he would feel like the room was spinning.
All it took was a singular visit to a different GP in the area.
The medical name was Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, but Remus had never bothered to learn how to spell it, and could only just about pronounce it. It’s more commonly known as chronic fatigue syndrome.
It was unsure why Remus had it, but they ruled out anything that would need extra treatment or monitoring, such as an autoimmune issue. It might just simply be that Remus’ genes hated him - he liked that idea the most. Probably because then he could say his self-hatred wasn’t him, but was actually his genes.
“Diawl,” he muttered to his limbs as he rolled over, only making the aching more pronounced. He groaned, trying his best to take deep breaths and relax into the mattress - it wasn’t really working. His mind was moving faster than he wanted it to, each thought acting like a pinprick to his skin and his eyes. With a sigh, he closed his eyes tight, scrunching his face until he could see static dancing behind his eyelids.
All he wanted to do was sleep but he wasn’t tired at all.
Time slipped by at both an alarmingly fast pace, as well as with the speed of treacle - it was impressive time could do such a thing. One moment, Remus glanced around to see his room aglow with golden light only seen in the late morning, but the next, he saw a dark shadow approaching, as if it was getting dark. Remus supposed he had probably spent the whole day in bed, which was nothing new, but it was surprising considering Lily would usually check on him during days like this, as she was only next door.
Then he remembered she was spending the weekend with James, something about visiting his parents; Remus had been rather distracted when she had told him.
He wasn’t really hungry, and even though he knew he needed to eat, and his body was almost screaming at him to eat something, the thought of making food, the endless list of things he’d need to do to make food, made him decide against it instead.
However, he did reach for his phone, which was resting beside him. A part of him knew if his parents had messaged him, if he didn’t respond they’d only worry.
The only message he had was from Sirius.
It was something stupid, a video of someone doing something only to end up falling over, but what made Remus smile was the message Sirius had sent with it.
‘saw this and thought i could do it,,, i have regrets’
Remus could only imagine the chaos of Sirius trying to recreate this video, without the fail at the end, and the mere thought made him chuckle.
‘You’re ridiculous, hope you’re not too hurt :)’
He took another deep breath, and felt a little better. He knew he had a habit of spiralling when he had a bad day, when his fatigue was worse, but seeing Sirius’ message had helped.
‘ill have one hell of a bruise tomorrow’
Remus rolled his eyes.
‘james went into panic mode and wanted to take me to the hospital but i only fell off the table onto the sofa’
Remus couldn’t help but laugh. He pitied their brother.
‘... I feel sorry for James’
And he put the phone down, the light from the screen hurting his eyes, but at least he was smiling now.
-----
Delivery days were the bane of Remus’ existence. If there was one thing he hated more than snappy customers, it was the boxes, upon boxes of books. Even though Remus loved books, and his dreams were filled with the idea of owning a private library, filled to the brim with books on every subject imaginable - a fantasy at best - he despised having to catalogue the books as they arrived, because of course the delivery company used a different categorising system to the publishers, who used a different system to the bookshop, and it was an absolute nightmare.
Maybe a nightmare was pushing it a little, but Remus really did hate these days - thankfully, he didn’t have to carry the boxes into storage.
Having just opened the last box, he heard the bell at the front of the shop ring and sighed, wondering if he’d rather look through these books than talk to a customer. He stood, knowing which he had to pick, no matter his preference, and heard his knees crack. He winced, but persevered to the shop, only to find out it was James.
“You!” he exclaimed, pointing at Remus.
He blinked. “Me?” Remus asked, pointing at himself.
“You write poetry,” James huffed, and it was clear he had run here. Remus wondered if he was okay. “You know Sirius.”
He blinked again. “I - what?” he squeaked, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.
“I can’t believe my girlfriend's best friend is dating my sibling,” James sighed, with a small smile. “Sorry, not dating,” he said, raising his hands when he saw Remus about to contradict him. “Writing songs together.”
“Maybe?” Remus said, trying to lower his voice an octave. “I can’t imagine there are many Sirius’ in the world,” he mused. He really wished he had stayed in the back and categorised the books. “And I am writing poetry with one.”
“Not dating?” James asked, almost hopeful. Remus had no idea why.
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of nose - though he was trying not to smile. “No, James, I’m not dating Sirius.”
“Damn,” James muttered, snapping his fingers as if he was a TV show detective that got the wrong suspect.
Remus shook his head. “I’m worried to know what Sirius has been telling you,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
James grinned. “Nothing bad.”
“That’s very reassuring,” Remus replied dryly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
“That you write the best poetry, that you both went to an art gallery together - not a date at all - that you have soft hands, and you aren’t a transphobe,” James listed, and Remus knew by now he was bright red.
“That last one is the bare minimum,” he muttered in response.
James hummed. “But I’d be lying if it didn’t make them smile,” he said, smiling at Remus as if he knew something Remus didn’t.
Remus snorted, trying to cover it up with a cough. “They’re always smiling.”
James raised an eyebrow at Remus, who mimicked the response. “I -” he began, but he appeared to be holding himself back. “Never mind,” he said, smiling. It was disconcerting to say the least. “How’s your shift going?”
“Did you come all the way here to ask me that?” Remus asked, flexing his fingers and making them crack.
James grimaced. “That’s horrible that you can do that.” He took a deep breath as he shook his head. “I came to ask you about Sirius, and now that I've done that, I’m going to ask how you are.”
Remus couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright,” he grinned. “I’m good, work is slow, been a bit off recently but I’m getting better.”
“I noticed you weren’t on shift,” James nodded, as if it now all made sense. What made sense Remus didn’t know. “Lily said you’d been a bit under the weather.”
Remus thought that was one way to phrase it.
He shrugged. “A little, yeah.”
James nodded again. “Just to clarify, you’re really not dating Sirius?”
“No, James,” Remus laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’d be terrified of lying to you about something like that,” he admitted.
“As you should be,” James grinned, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m terrifying.”
“Truly.”
“It’s the glasses,” James said, pointing to the circular frames that made him as terrifying as a baby deer.
Remus hummed. “How’ve you been?”
James shrugged. “Neither here nor there.”
“Meaning?” Remus asked, wanting to allow James to clarify if he wanted to.
“I guess…” James sighed, frowning as he leaned against the counter. “It’s kind of dumb.”
“Really James,” Remus said, watching as his friend kicked at the floor. “What’s wrong?”
James sighed, resting his head in his chin. “Everything’s going great. Lily is one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met, Sirius is, well, they're doing great…,” he said, chewing at his fingernails. “I just can’t help but feel that something bad is on the horizon, you know?” James looked as if he was one thought away from bursting into tears, or one thought away from feeling nothing but an empty numbness.
“You mean you’re waiting for someone to tell you, you’re doing something wrong?” Remus asked, recognising the look James had as one he used to wear all the time.
There was a pause as James froze. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “I don’t mean to unload on you, we don’t know each other that well,” he said, and Remus raised an eyebrow.
“You may be dating my best friend, but I’d say we’re friends too,” Remus replied. Whilst it was true he hadn’t known James for the longest time, he had gotten to know him somewhat over the past few months. His occasional drop ins when he had gotten Lily’s work schedule wrong, the times they’d spent together simply because they ran into each other. Remus couldn’t help but admit that James Potter was someone he wanted as a friend. “You’re allowed to want to talk to someone about what's happening in your life.”
James laughed, and immediately covered his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” he quickly explained, waving an arm in front of himself. “It’s just - you’re oddly wise.”
Remus smiled. “I’ve been told that before,” he said, his lip twitching upward at the thought.
Taking a deep breath, James tried his best to look at Remus. “I lost my parents a few years back,” he began to explain, and Remus felt a tug at his heart.
“Cachu,” Remus said, unable to stop the word from escaping. “You must miss them,” he added, watching as James continued to bite at his fingernails, a smile slowly stretching his features.
He nodded. “More than anything,” he sighed, fiddling with the position of his glasses. “It makes it hard to get comfortable when something good happens, ‘cause of how they died.” James took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “It was a complete accident,” he said, tapping the toe of his shoe on the floor. “Car swerved to avoid this kid, barely two I think, and they hit my parents instead.” Remus tried his best not to wince but from the small smile James was offering him, he knew he’d failed. “I can’t even be angry, because I know my parents would feel worse if their lives were traded for that kid’s.”
Remus didn’t know what he could say. “That - I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been.”
“Yeah,” James breathed, letting out a small chuckle. “I remember the phone call, and I had just got my driver's licence, and it seemed so - I don’t know - big? At the time? It seemed like something important, and good.” he sighed.
That’s when Remus put it together. “So now you can’t help but associate good moments with…” he said, more to clarify he was following James’ story.
James nodded. “Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “This is all very macabre; I don’t mean to -”
“When I was sixteen,” Remus began, not sure if he was really going to share this with James, but his voice continued anyway. “I got told that I have chronic fatigue, and I didn’t really know what that meant so I looked into it, I did so much research that my fingers began to feel numb from pressing so many keys,” he joked, trying to stay on track. “Anyway, I found out it wasn’t temporary, it wasn’t something I could fix with meds, and I’d probably have mobility issues for the rest of my life, getting a late diagnosis probably fucked something up somewhere,” he sighed, rubbing at his thumb. “And it seemed like an odd link, but I realised I’d never be able to get good at football,” he laughed.
“You wanted to be?” James asked, and Remus noticed something had shifted in his face, not in a bad way, but Remus couldn’t place what.
Remus shrugged. “Only in the way every sixteen-year-old wants to be good at something those around them are,” he explained, tapping his finger on the counter. “What I’m trying to say is, there’s nothing wrong with making odd connections between events,” he explained. “I’m pretty sure we all do it, but try not to let it cloud how something is making you feel?” Remus really wasn’t that good at this, but James laughed, a smile resting on his face afterward.
“I think I get your point Remus,” James said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for - you know.”
“No problem,” Remus grinned, and James shook his head.
That was when Remus knew he truly had made a friend.
-----
The streets were always too loud; that’s what Remus hated about living in the city. Whilst he missed nature, he was happy to substitute it for the ease of access through-out the city, but the cars… If they could keep off the roads, it would be a lot nicer to walk across town. He needed to go outside today too, so it wasn’t as if he could decide he hated how loud it was and go back home.
He sighed, pressing at his headphones as if that would help shut out the rest of the world - he really should invest in some noise-cancelling headphones, but they were obscenely expensive when his current pair cost him £15 from HMV. At least it wasn’t raining… he shouldn’t jinx himself like that. With a quick glance at the sky to verify he hadn’t just fucked himself over, he checked his phone to see if he had been following the right route to get to Sirius’ apartment. He had taken a bus into central (as Sirius suggested) and then tried to follow Google Maps, but he was awful at trying to follow directions.
He couldn’t have been too bad though, because it seemed as if he was outside their apartment building. He sent a message to Sirius, who had said they’d meet him out front once he arrived.
However as fate wanted nothing more than to embarrass Remus at every possible turn, Sirius’ building was actually across the street. How did he know this? Sirius had to yell his name from the other side of the road. They were clearly finding the whole situation somewhat amusing, as Remus struggled to cross over; every time he placed his foot on the road, another car appeared almost from nowhere. Each time, Remus jumped back onto the pavement, almost falling over, and that’s when Sirius started laughing.
Remus tried his best to glare at them, but the fourth time it happened, he was really re-evaluating the importance of crossings. They needed to install traffic lights around here so this wouldn’t happen to another poor unfortunate soul. Eventually, Remus managed to cross, only to be greeted by a loud, laughing Sirius, who leaned against his shoulder as they wiped tears from their eyes.
“You made that look so difficult,” they giggled, placing a hand over their mouth as if that would muffle their laughter.
Remus shook his head. “They really should put a crossing somewhere on this road, it’s a real hazard,” he huffed, his face turning red as Sirius patted his cheek. Well…
“Aww,” they cooed. “Will a cup of tea make you feel better?” they teased, but Remus couldn’t deny that it would.
He sighed. “Yes,” he grumbled, scowling at the pavement as if it had kicked his dog.
Sirius chuckled. “Come on then, let's get you inside.”
The reception of this building was nicer than Remus’ entire apartment. He tried to keep the surprise and awe from his face, but knew he’d failed when Sirius offered him a small smile, rubbing the back of their neck.
“James and I got a surprising amount of inheritance when our parents… you know,” they shrugged, pressing the button to the elevator. “The plus side I guess is good living spaces,” they joked, and Remus was so surprised he snorted.
He slapped a hand over his face, and Sirius gave him a sideways glance before chuckling themselves. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why that was funny,” Remus admitted, pulling at his sleeves.
Sirius shook their head. “I prefer laughing and smiling at the memory of Effie and Monty, don’t worry,” they grinned. “I know that’s how they’d prefer to be remembered anyway.”
Remus had forgotten how to breathe. “Okay,” he hummed, wondering how fast this elevator was really going.
“I’m sorry about James by the way,” Sirius added, seeming to have just remembered something.
Remus blinked. “Hm?”
“The other day?” they offered, and Remus’ eyes widened.
“Oh,” he managed to say.
Sirius shook their head. “I didn’t expect him to know you, and I really didn’t expect him to ambush you at work.”
“It’s alright,” Remus shrugged, smiling. “It was surprising, but I can see why you stick around him.”
Sirius let out a laugh. “I’m glad you can, because I can’t.”
Pausing outside a door Remus assumed was to their apartment, Sirius sighed, running their fingers through their hair. “You good annwyl?" Remus asked, both nervous and incredibly curious as to what Sirius and James’ apartment looked like on the inside.
Sirius hummed. “Just a warning, James is in, and he will make jokes,” they explained, and Remus couldn’t help but nod, feeling as if he was receiving a debriefing before seeing someone under surveillance. “Feel free to slap him if he gets annoying - I know I will,” they added, with a small scowl that Remus thought was actually quite cute.
“I’m not sure it’s okay to slap my best friend's boyfriend, but I’ll keep it in mind,” he replied, his voice dripping with mirth.
Sirius rolled their eyes. “Trust me, you’ll want to,” they said, opening the front door.
Their apartment was nothing like Remus expecting, but at the same time, completely unsurprising to him. There were more plants than Remus had expected to see, but the tips of the leaves were turning brown as the sun burnt them away. It smelt of tea and vanilla, with a cake displayed on the kitchen table that was clearly just being eaten whenever the two of them felt hungry, and coffee stains littered the same table. The sofa was lime green (an interesting choice) and James had draped himself over the entire thing - which Remus found quite impressive actually. There were knick-knacks on every surface, the two of them clearly hating the idea of minimalism in any form, and a stain-glass hanging decoration in front of the window to cover the room in an eclectic mix of orange and blues, and lilac and golds.
It felt loved.
“Hello Sirius, future brother-in-law,” James said, without moving a single muscle.
Remus snorted as Sirius flicked his ear, forcing James to sit straight. “You’re being an arse, James Potter.”
James spluttered indignantly. “Says the one who just physically assaulted my ear!”
“I think Sirius has to propose before I can be considered a future in-law,” Remus mused, leaning against the back of the sofa.
"We have to be dating for me to propose," Sirius added dryly, the corners of their mouth twitching as they suppressed a smile.
James seemed to take this into consideration, whilst Sirius’ eyes darted from James to Remus and back again, as if he’s missed something important. “Sirius, you should propose.”
Sirius blinked. “Excuse me?” they asked, their expression blank.
“You heard the man,” Remus said, not knowing where the confidence was coming from. He supposed he’d heard so much about his, whatever he had, with Sirius for the past few days (from both James and Lily), that the entire concept didn’t faze him anymore.
It should have fazed him though.
“You’re conspiring against me Remus? How could you?” they scoffed, poking Remus’ shoulder.
“Ow, ow, ow!" Remus squirmed, trying his best to avoid Sirius, who seemed to enjoy poking him a little too much. “You should blame James, not me,” he insisted, pointing over at James who jumped off the sofa and began to edge his way towards a door Remus assumed led to either the bathroom or his room.
“Hey now,” James grinned, raising his arms as Sirius glanced in his direction.
They pointed at him. “I’ll deal with you later,” they threatened. Remus was about to laugh, but when Sirius turned back to him, he mimicked James, raising his hands in surrender. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Remus,” they pouted.
Remus felt his insides begin to melt like marshmallows. “Don’t worry fy nghariad, I’m always on your side,” he grinned.
James made a noise. “Gross,” he said, but he seemed to be trying not to smile. “You guys have fun writing songs, I promised Dorcas I’d help her study.”
“Dorcas is allowing you to help her study?” Remus asked, feeling as if he’d stepped into a parallel universe.
“I’m asking her questions and telling her if she’s right or not,” he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.
The universe was at peace again. Sirius snorted. “Well, it was nice to see you James, hope you have fun, bye-bye now.” They spoke so quickly, Remus wondered how they managed to form the words without fumbling. "And what are those little names you keep referring to me as?" Sirius asked, as James took the moment to escape into his room.
Remus thought for a moment, a split second where he realised he needed to come up with an answer that wouldn't express that he may have realised he might, ever so slightly, have a crush on Sirius. "They're just, Welsh phrases is all," he shrugged.
Nailed it.
"You can speak Welsh?" Sirius asked, their eyes lighting up as if they'd been told it was Christmas.
Remus laughed. "You're only just noticing? I speak it all the time, it's comforting," he explained, his heart skipping a beat as Sirius clung to his every word.
"You're amazing," Sirius breathed, their eyes still alight.
Remus coughed, trying his best not to turn bright pink. "Should we write the song?"
-----
“Where do you think we should start?” Sirius said, tuning his guitar.
Remus flipped through the pages of his notebook. “I’m not sure,” he said, stopping at a page he noticed was riddled with scribbled out lines. “Do you have a song you want me to write something too?”
Sirius nodded, a pick between his teeth as he tied his hair into a ponytail. “I’ve been working on something.”
“Can I hear it?” Remus asked, wanting nothing more than to hear Sirius play.
“Sure,” he grinned, fiddling with the pick by passing it up and down his fingers. “Won’t need this though,” he muttered to himself, and Remus couldn’t help but smile as Sirius struggled to reach the table and place the pick down. “I’m ready now,” he said, with so much earnest, that Remus couldn’t help but laugh.
He offered Sirius an encouraging smile, and something fluttered in his chest as Sirius returned the smile.
Nothing could have prepared Remus for what he was about to hear. Sirius’ fingers moved so quickly, and yet there wasn’t a single note that sounded as if it shouldn’t be there. It was as if the guitar was a part of him, with every sound the strings made coming from within him, rather than from the instrument itself. It was soft, and Remus felt as if he was being given a chance to see within Sirius’ soul; the bittersweet pain, the innocent excitement, and the faint nostalgia that was buried deep, all became clearer. There was nothing specific, it could have been about a past love, about a moment in time he regretted, as was the vagueness of music, but the intent was all Remus needed to understand what Sirius wanted to say. It hummed, and thrummed, and strummed along with Sirius’ hand, as if the guitar wished it could speak the same language as humans, and was growing frustrated each time it tried.
It screamed the words:
I love you
Stay
I love you
Stay
I love you
Stay
With the time to say it running from him like sand, or catching up with him as the end of a song always would.
Then it was over.
“Lesu mawr,” Remus breathed, leaning back against the sofa.
Sirius let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m hoping that’s a good thing?”
“You’re amazing, Sirius,” Remus said, turning to look at him. “Truly a wonder,” he said, an excitement in his throat that made it difficult to think.
Sirius rested his forehead against the guitar, mumbling something Remus couldn’t quite hear, his face turning red.
“What’s it about?” Remus asked, wanting to absorb everything he could about the song.
“I’m not sure,” Sirius shrugged, lifting his head from the guitar, his cheeks still flushed. “I don’t tend to write about specific things, you know?”
Remus nodded, understanding what he meant. “Then can you tell me what you know about it whilst you play?”
Sirius thought for a moment, his fingers drumming against the body of the guitar as he chewed at his fingers on his other hand - a habit it seemed both James and Sirius had. “I feel calm,” he began. “But not serene, or content. It’s like I’ve been trying to find something… no that’s not right,” he backtracked, shaking his head. “There’s a pebble beach, and the sea is warm, but the breeze isn’t as cold as you want it to be, and everything feels as if I’m forgetting something, as if I’m calm but I shouldn’t be, like when you’re deep within a dream and it’s almost lucid, but you can’t quite wake up,” he sighed. “I’m calm, I’m happy but something is very, very wrong. Does that make sense?” he asked, turning to look at Remus who simply smiled.
“I think it does, others might not though,” he replied, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair that had escaped Sirius’ ponytail whilst he played. “Guess that’s what I’m for though, right?” he joked, and Sirius snorted, resting his head against the guitar again.
“That was an awful joke,” Sirius said, but Remus knew he was smiling. “Do you think you’d be able to write something about it?”
Remus wished he knew. It told a story without his help, conveyed so much emotion, but he guessed what Sirius wanted was his interpretation more than anything. “Most likely… yes,” he nodded, chewing on the end of his pen. “Could you play it again?”
So Sirius played it again, and this time Remus was struck with idea after idea. He wrote as quickly as his hand would allow him, and he knew he’d regret it tomorrow, but inspiration is fleeting after all.
‘It has you by the throat
My love, please let it go
You cradle the idea of offering it all
You’re allowed to leave
I’d understand if you ran
You wouldn’t have to explain
My dear, you’re above it all
My own selfish wishes
Did you get enough love?
Did you feel loved enough?
Do your fingers feel warmer than they did before?
You don’t deserve to cry
My love, please don’t cry’
It was only his first attempt, and it didn’t fully capture what Sirius had described, but there was something haunting about what he’d written, that meant even if Sirius didn’t want it for this song, Remus was going to continue to work at it. He tapped the end of his pen against the paper, not realising Sirius had finished a few minutes prior.
“Did you get anything interesting?” he asked, craning his head to view the words Remus had written.
He shrugged. “A first draft, I suppose,” he said, though he became more and more unsure if it was the right poem with each glance over. “I don’t think it quite fits, but almost? Maybe?” Remus chewed at the inside of his cheek. “What do you think?”
Before he could talk himself out of it, he passed the notebook to Sirius, who took it, albeit hesitantly, and dragged his thumb across the edges of the paper.
Remus tried his best not to bounce his leg as Sirius read, but his heart was practically in his throat, and Sirius wasn’t making a single facial expression. It wasn’t that he needed it to be perfect, but he didn’t want Sirius to turn around and say that maybe they shouldn’t write music, write poetry together.
Then Sirius grinned. “And you say I’m a wonder,” he said, his voice as soft as the guitar had been. Remus blinked. “This is scarily close to describing what this song feels like.”
“Really?” Remus asked, grinning at the words.
Sirius laughed. “I don’t know how you do it.”
Remus shrugged. “I don’t know how you do it.”
The two snorted, before Sirius began to laugh, balancing himself against the guitar. It didn’t take long for Remus to catch on to Sirius’ laughter, feeling the joy of the other spread between them like wildfire.