musings of an epilogue
Everything comes to an end: one day: eventually.
Remus wasn’t sure he’d ever be happy about it, but he’d grown to accept that things change; people change as time rolls on, feelings are malleable, and everything ends.
But God it hurt when Sirius stopped messaging him. There couldn’t have been anything worse, because it took him months to even realise that Sirius hadn’t sent him a text; they'd just stopped - hadn’t even said goodbye. That’s what made it hurt; the fact that he hadn’t even realised they were growing apart. The signs were more than obvious when he looked back.
When they first moved, Remus wouldn’t be found without his phone in hand, calling, messaging, talking in some way, to Sirius; it was like that for months. James would talk about his visits to France, offering to even take Remus over, as he had done with Lily, but Remus wasn’t sure he could. He wanted to visit, of course he did, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave Sirius’ side if he did, and that wasn’t fair to either of them.
It was a thought that silently began to kill whatever was left of them.
It started with the calls.
They’d grown awkward and benign - neither knowing what to say, and his fear of annoying Sirius was overwhelming. Consequently, Remus decided to text instead of call, and Sirius must have noticed, because they started to do the same. Remus wasn’t worried he’d say something he’d regret through text.
Years passed, and James and Lily got married.
Remus had missed it.
As fate would have it, his chance to see Sirius again for the first time in years had been taken away by a ruptured appendix. It was shitty timing on his body’s part, and he wondered if it would have been worse if he actually had seen Sirius or not - he was sure they would have said something about missing Remus, and Remus was too tired to handle that.
Neither Lily nor James blamed him for missing their wedding, but when he looked back it was when Sirius’ messages started to get shorter, so maybe Sirius did.
At the time, Remus hadn’t noticed, too enwrapped in his own shortcomings to realise that Sirius was slipping away from him. They would send the occasional photo, the odd phrase here and there - sometimes they’d just send an update on how Regulus was doing.
It was when Lily told Remus that she was a month pregnant (about eight years after Sirius moved) that Remus realised he hadn’t heard from Sirius in over three months.
Lily had asked if Sirius had slipped up in one of their conversations to Remus, as James had called them almost immediately after she broke the news to him.
And Remus realised they hadn’t had a conversation where they could slip up.
He wasn’t sure if Lily could see his broken expression through his fake smile, but he’d felt empty for days after that.
In the years that had passed since Sirius and Regulus had moved, not once did he think the two of them would ever stop talking.
That was when he knew that everything would eventually end.
-----
If Remus had to describe a part of his existence he enjoyed, it would be bookshops and trees. Perhaps others would find it contradictory (with paper being made of mulch wood), but Remus thought they complimented each other rather well. The soft rustle of lime green leaves mixing with golden rays of harsh light, forced to dim by the tree itself, and the slow back and forth of the branches by the windows; the odd whispers, the smell of books (old and new), and the way time seemed to stand as still as the dust in the air. It was probably why all of Remus’ favourite book shops had trees out the front, or were at least near parks - it meant he got to see one on his way to visit the other.
Taking a long, grounding breath, Remus wiped his hands on his trousers, trying not to bite at his nails. He knew that when he arrived at the book shop, Lily and James would be there, waiting for him with wide smiles, and Remus would tell Lily she really shouldn’t be standing, and Lily would tell him he shouldn’t tell a pregnant person what to do, and James would pull him in for a hug whilst reminding him how proud he is, and Remus would wonder how he ended up here.
He’d published a book.
A collection of poems, to be exact, but a book, nonetheless.
He still had to splash his face with water as he glanced in the mirror, wondering if it was at all real.
The feedback to his poem would never be easy for him to read, but when he did decide to torture himself, combing out the ones that were laced with bigotry so he could at least avoid those ones, he tended to cry. Sometimes it was because of the criticism, harsh words that rattled in his skull like marbles, but sometimes it was because of the stranger’s story.
They would write about how they quoted his poetry when they came out to friend, to family; they would write about how reading his poems on his chronic illness helped them to process their own: to help them feel less alone: to help them know others out there would understand, even if no one around them yet did. The pages and pages of coming out stories made him feel like he’d achieved something greater than him. The times when people expressed the joy they felt upon finding an author who was asexual, and relating to his poetry deconstructing love.
Lily told him it was best not to dwell on how his poetry would be received, stating it couldn’t be healthy to rely on others' optimism and pessimism.
Whilst he didn’t fully agree (sometimes what he wrote was meant to be deconstructed and understood only in the way you can understand yourself), he did find that, like always, she had a point.
It was why he preferred these meet and greets. He got to discuss his work without thinking himself into a hole because he wasn’t alone in bed at four in the morning… it was far healthier for him.
He’d arrived early, smiling to himself he noticed James talking the ear off the shop owner about his latest thoughts on life as Lily simply shook her head in the chair beside him (Remus had called ahead to the shop to inform them that Lily was pregnant, not wishing to force her to stand the whole time). Though when she noticed Remus, she broke into a grin. “Lupin my love,” she exclaimed, kissing both his cheeks. “I told you your poetry was fantastic, didn’t I?” she asked, and James seemed to be biting back a laugh at Remus’ lack of movement.
“She’s been rather emotional as of late,” James answers, though Remus wasn’t sure what the question had really been.
Lily simply nodded. “It’s to be expected, and I’ve decided to go with it.”
Remus blinked, trying to get a grip on his thoughts. “Right…”
Snorting, James clapped Remus on the back. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you too, Moony.”
Remus groaned. “Please stop calling me that before it catches.”
“Not happening,” James grins. “It’s already a habit.”
“It was one time,” Remus mumbled, as Lily patted his arm with such condescension, Remus felt the urge to groan again. He took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
Lily huffed, sitting back in her chair. “Well I won’t allow you to run now Remus, you’re doing this.”
“But -”
“No one will hate you,” she said softly, her eyes shining as Remus felt his ears heat. “They’ll be here to meet you, discuss their favourite poem, get your signature, and meet others who like your work.”
Remus let out a shaky laugh. “So no pressure then.”
“None,” James agreed, smiling. “And if it’s that bad, you can make a break for it, I’ll cover you.”
Lily snorted. “He’s too tall for you to hide.”
James blinked, turning to face her. “Lily… love of my life… mother to my child, my wonder and my soul… I did not mean I would physically smuggle Remus out of the shop,” he grinned. “I meant he could run to the loo and I’d tell everyone he wasn’t feeling well.”
“I know…”
She didn’t - Remus could tell.
When the event started, Remus wondered how it was possible that so many people wished to meet him. It could have only been about twenty people, but it far more than he assumed would care. The people in line were incredibly kind about his work, offering their thoughts and opinions, and Remus was enthralled by their interpretation, almost feeling bad when they asked what he’d written it about and it seemed much less important than their take.
He’d forgotten how important words could be.
It was after about an hour, as those who he’d already met began to talk amongst themselves somewhere in the shop, that he noticed James was grinning. He furrowed his eyebrows at him, wondering what made him smile that widely when Lily was beside him.
He would glance toward the line, then back at Remus, then grin at the line again.
If Remus hadn’t known James for over eight years, it would have been really concerning.
As the line got shorter, Remus realised Lily was now grinning too, the couple having matching grins that suggested they knew something he didn’t.
It was only as he leaned over to ask them what in the world made them grin like that, that he saw them.
Sirius.
Stood in the line.
Book in hand.
His breath caught in his throat, as Sirius offered a small wave, grinning sheepishly. He wondered if they thought Remus would ask them to leave.
A part of Remus wondered if he would.
But then he realised he’d been staring for a few minutes, and his entire face flared up, as if he’d suddenly come down with a rather bad cold. It was obvious to those in the queue that Remus knew this person, and they seemed to be encouraging Sirius to go to him.
Remus almost rolled his eyes when he heard a faint reply from Sirius, informing them that they didn’t mind waiting. “I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?” he called out, biting back a laugh as the line stood to the side (it was so cinematic, Remus found it hard to think it was real).
“Hey,” Sirius said quietly, waving again.
Remus raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. “Hello cariad.”
Sirius’ head shot up. “Does that mean -?”
“Don’t get me wrong, you have some explaining to do,” Remus replied, and he couldn’t hold back his grin. “But Sirius,” he cooed, reaching up to caress Sirius’ cheek. “I really did mean it when I said I’d wait for you - yes, I thought it had come to an end, but I’ve still been waiting for you, I think I always will.”
“I’m so sorry,” they blurted, cheeks flushed. “Moving back home was so much more chaotic than I thought it would be, and I didn’t even realise how much time had passed - not that, that excuses it at all and I’m willing to grovel Remus, trust me on that - and then Lily sent me a very, very long message,” they admitted, bowing their head.
Remus turned to look at Lily who shrugged. “They were hurting my best friend; I couldn’t stand for that.”
“I was going to surprise you,” Sirius mumbled. “But those two can’t seem to keep a straight face about a plan, I thought could massively backfire,” they said, glaring at the couple.
James snorted. “Sirius, mate, I love you, but God you needed a kick up the arse to see Remus again.”
Sirius let out a sharp noise of protest. “Why not kick Remus up the arse to come see me?”
Remus was realising something…
“Because he wouldn’t have even noticed if I did,” James chuckled, and Remus was offended at that.
It must have shown on his face. “I guess we’re both idiots, huh?” Sirius grinned, leaning toward Remus.
He was realising…
His voice almost didn’t work. “Guess we are,” he grinned, his face already aching - he was definitely going to cry later.
With every ending…
“Remus,” Sirius began, thrusting the book toward him. “Write another poem for me?”
Scratch that, he might cry right now instead.
There was a beginning.