Yes, I am alive, thanks for noticing :)

Quarantine brain got me back at writing kinda.

Part two of the chapter should arrive one day - hopefully.

Hope your lives are wonderful and thank you if you're reading this.

Stay safe and well 3

Remus placed the book down with special care before he rearranged himself in his seat for the hundredth time in the last five minutes. He knew that he was annoying the surrounding people with constant shuffling.

The library was meant to be a sanctuary, a place of peace and quiet, which he was ruining with the racket he was making. A loud creaking chair, the rustling of clothes and his heavy sigh from whenever he moved.

Truth be told, it annoyed him even more. Every sound ringing a thousand times louder in his ears, all his senses heightened to the point of pain. On top of that, he couldn't get bloody comfortable.

His skin was stretched tight to the limit, and a thousand Lacewing flies were crawling beneath it, making him want to itch and scratch at it. He needed wanted to peel the skin off and dig them out. His joints were all swollen and stinging, but still, he didn't scratch. No matter how much he wanted to. No matter how desperate he was to dig in.

He settled instead for creating a different pain. He ran his nails along the palm of his hand, before digging his blunt nails in. Harder and harder he dug until his whole hand throbbed, the pain overtaking all other sensations.

Sighing, Remus' eyes slipped closed as leaned back into the chair. The sweet but temporary relief washing over him until his hand was numb. He tilted his head to adjust his neck, making his hair fall across his face.

As much as he tried to ignore it, the simple movement made his already sensitive head lit up like a bonfire, sharp little needles danced along his scalp, inside and out. He could feel every strand, how it just wasn't sitting right… Merlin, he wanted to rip it all out.

Hissing aloud, Remus forced himself to sit up. On the way, he banged his elbow into the back of the chair mid-shuffle, setting his nerves ablaze. Growling under his breath, he went to scratch at his elbow, more than ready to peel the skin off, before the time and be free—NO!

He slammed his hand down on the armrest of the chair. He couldn't let the wolf win. Not while he was still in control and the only way he would stay in control would be if he kept his hands occupied. The thoughts were too tempting to act upon if he didn't.

Raising a shaky hand, he grabbed the book he'd been reading off the desk and tried to pick up from where he left off.

A few minutes passed, and he made no progress. He kept going over the same sentence again and again, but the letters didn't form words, and the words made little sense. His mind was too focussed on the way his spine was coiled up, his muscles cramped up, needing to be unleashed.

But it wasn't time yet, he had another three hours before it happened. So Remus kept his hands on the book, gripping the hardcover spine until his knuckles went white and forced himself to focus on the words. Each word was a struggle and took at least thirty seconds to comprehend. He had to keep going because he knew it would only make it worse later if he gave in to the urges. Years of pain had taught him that lesson, and experience told him that all of it was the wonderful symptoms of being a werewolf.

So lost in his own world that he didn't hear anyone approaching. Only when there was a gentle tap on his shoulder did he notice the other presence. He completely ignored it and continued trying to read.

The tap on his shoulder came again. "Piss off, I'm reading," Remus snarled without bothering to look up. The other Marauders knew better than to interrupt him while he was reading on a full moon night.

On the third time, with his temper already on thin ice, he snapped. "What part of 'piss off' don't you get?" as he shouted, he threw the book at whatever asshole mate of his was ruining his solitude and last chance for the night to calm himself down.

As the book collided with the shoulder of Professor Sinclair, Remus' flame of anger was drenched by the cold feeling of embarrassment and dread.

"Oh, Merlin," he whispered, feeling his face draining of all blood. He staggered to his feet, shocked at his own actions, making him unsteady. "Professor, I am so sorry, I thought you were one of my friends."

He studied her nervously, looking for signs of injury or silent rage that might be unleashed upon him at any second now. But the eruption never came. She didn't even look mad. In fact, she waved off his apology and leaned over to get the book. "It's quite alright, Mr Lupin," she said, as she straightened back up, proffering the book out to him. "I know that at this time of the month that things are a little harder…" she trailed off with a shrug and proffered the book to him again.

Remus winced at her delicate phrasing, hating how it was always put like that. Seeming to sense his discomfort, she lowered the book, instead of placing it on the arm of the chair. Edging back slowly, she smiled wanly before, she got to the point of her visit. "Anyway, I already said so in my note, but I'm just here to remind you that I'll be waiting for you in the entrance hall at six this evening."

He nodded grimly and let his head fall, eyes cast down and studying his frayed shoes that had a hole at the tip, his worn socks poking through. He gasped when a gentle hand cupped his chin and tilted his head up, forcing him to meet her gaze. Honey brown looked down at him, but not with judgement or disgust like he was expecting, rather they were full of understanding. "Is that okay, Remus? I can meet you somewhere else if you prefer?"

Shaking his head free, he averted his gaze and mumbled, "Yes, Professor," hoping that she would leave him be. He glanced up at her through his lashes and spotted that she was peering at his book.

She tilted her head and a small smile grew across her face as she bent over to pick up the book, being careful to keep his page. "This is in French," she held the book out to him.

Remus nodded and took the proffered book. "Yeah, I know some and I read more than I can speak it…"

Her smile turned into a full-blown grin. "That's wonderful, Mr Lupin."

"Remus…" he corrected.

She arched a brow. "Pardon?"

"Call me, Remus, please. I mean you don't have to, it's just that Mr Lupin is my dad and—" oh, he was making a mess of it, as always. He felt his cheeks reddening and cleared his throat. "So six, then?

She nodded, eyes crinkling at the corner. "Remus, then. I'll let you get back to your book and I'll see you there."