Sometimes

She would come to him in the middle of the night. Wake him up from a dreamless sleep by peeling back the heavy wool blankets and sliding in next to his lithe body, pulling the drapes shut behind her. One hand would slip across his chest, bare if it was summer, tee shirt covered if it was winter, and her rosy lips would whisper urgently in his ear.

"Remus? Remus, wake up."

And he always would.

Sometimes she would wake him up just to let him know she was there, as if he couldn't smell her coming up the stairs. Then he wondered. Why did she feel it was necessary for him to be consciously aware that she was climbing into his bed? Why couldn't he feel guilty while he was sleeping? But she always persisted until he opened his tired grey eyes and looked at her; always bit her lip slightly until he gave her a slight smile that had nothing behind it.

But that was only sometimes. Sometimes she would come with just her robe on. Sometimes, when she pulled the drapes shut, she would take off the terry cloth and reveal herself completely. He wondered if he was the only one who got to see her naked, but didn't entertain the notion for long. Yeah right.

"Remus? Remus, wake up."

He opened his eyes, to see her in her uniform.

"You're dressed?"

"Yes, would you please undress me? Because if you don't take these clothes off me soon, I think I might die."

And he always would. He left the skirt on, though.

And Merlin was she beautiful. Perfectly porcelain skin, long thick hair that fanned across his pillow. Endless legs that must have come from her endless sprinting to be early to classes, because she didn't exercise otherwise, that he could see anyway. And her breasts, and God, her mouth. Her perfectly pouted, rosy-lipped mouth, just the right size, just the right texture when she dragged it across his skin. Her mouth was his favorite part of her, but then again, he was pretty sure the eyes were already taken.

Sometimes they fit together perfectly. He could lie there for hours with her, and just refuse to think, or speak, or do anything but feel her around him and breathe her in the air in the way he knew only he could. Her smell would stop blood to his head, and they would just be there together, like there was no one else in the world, and if there was, they didn't matter anyway.

"Remus? Remus, wake up."

She was in her pajamas.
"Not in the mood?"

"Well, I… I was hoping we could just sleep, you know?"

"Why, he wear you out?"

"Jesus, Remus, what did you say that for?"

"Could you keep it down, don't want him to find out we're fucking, do you?"

"Remus, stop it."

"Course, we aren't technically fucking right now, but we would be if you hadn't been fucking him earlier."

"Please, Remus, I'm sorry. Can't you please just hold me?"

And he always would. But it didn't always help.

Sometimes he could be so mean. But it was the feeling she left him with. The feeling of lying there, that night after she had gone, or the next morning, like he was trapped in a room that just kept getting smaller and smaller until he couldn't breathe. Why was he doing this? He used to blame it on the moon, but eventually, you can't blame everything on your lycanthropy. Having an affair behind someone's back didn't fall under the woes of being a werewolf. And so he lay under his sheets, tossing and turning, unable to sleep because of the stones on his chest, and he just wanted to scream that he was sorry, that he hated him, that he loved her, just please forgive him for what he had done.

When she cut her hair, he should've known what was coming. She came that night and he wound his elegant fingers through it, making love to her mouth with his tongue as he caressed the boyish locks. Yet it was not until he slid himself inside of her that he knew it was the last time. And she moaned and it was perfect and endless and gone way too soon, but then again, it had never really been from the beginning.

"Remus? Remus, wake up."

She was wearing her clothes, like she hadn't been to bed yet. Her hair hung in her face, still glowing like fire in the dark room. The waxing moon made her eyes glint like emeralds. They were full of tears. He sat up.

"What is it, Lily?"

"It's… well, James proposed."

His heart stopped beating.

"When?"

"Just now." There was an endless pause. "I-I'm going to marry him. I love him, Remus."

"I know."

She threw her arms around him, sobbing silently into his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. I… I do love you."

"I know. I love you too. Marry James."

"Please, never let go. Promise you'll always be here for me."

And he always would.

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