Marauder crack

Baudelaire

Side effects of avoiding someone: it turns out more or less unavoidable to miss him.

Side effects of avoiding someone you see every day and with whom you do everything at all hours: you miss more or less everything and all the time. At all hours. Constantly.

To avoid a mortal crisis of melancholy Remus spends hours with Lily. On Tuesday noon he offers to leave books for Lily to read. During the summer and rummage through the trunks in the Room of the boys. Remus' books smell like muggle paper, library in study times, ink, and good memories. They smell like Hogwarts and Lily likes it. Lying down on the bed, resting her head on his arm, and listening to him reading.

Slowly and carefully to avoid spoiling the words. Between verse and verse, Remus struggles not to hear the creaking of his heart.

- What do you want me to read?

Remus has a thick volume. "Antologia Poetica". Lily chooses a poem running her fingers randomly between pages.

- This one.

Remus reads Baudelaire.

-Sometimes I feel my blood running in waves- he says- the same as a source of rhythmic sobs. I hear her running in long murmurs but in vain I feel to find the wound.

When love hurts, all poems seem written for yourself. Remus knows that he sometimes bleeds with no apparent injury and that it isn't the marks of the moon that hurt the most.

- I like Baudelaire- says Lily, with that simplicity, like who says "I love chocolate".

- I have looked in love for a dream of oblivion, but love is not for me but a mattress of pins made to give drink to those cruel women.

- Why do we always have to be the bad, women?

Remus doesn't have time to answer. The door opens and just because of how opens - wide, as if pushed by some unexpected tornado- He knows who is going to appear on the other side. No jacket in the sight, irritated and with something that looks like puree on his shirt.

- Hello Sirius- Lily greets him from the bed.

Instead of saying "hello" or his usual "Evans" which for him amounts to a salute, he drills her with his eyes. She takes a quick look at Remus and the bed in which they have lain. Also, he takes a look at the book, but when he speaks - growls, rather - he doesn't say anything about Baudelaire.

- Are you two always together or what?

Almost two days without speaking and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is a reproach.

- How nice, Black- says Lily- Has a hippogriff shit on you, or why are you so happy?

-Peter- Sirius murmurs, angrily.

Remus forgets for a moment that they are not speaking.

-Did Peter shit on you?- He asks, holding back a smile. And just for a second, just an instant, it seems to Remus that he's going to get Sirius to laugh, and everything will go back to normal. Sirius will make a joke. He's hallucinating it: he will mess with him and everything will be normal again.

But Sirius doesn't make any joke.

-No- his tone is dry. - He has been so excited chatting abou' his summer vacations, that he has thrown his bloody food all over me.

He walks over to his bed, which is undone, logically, and has lots of clothes on the jumbled sheets. Among the chaos, he distinguishes a white shirt from the school uniform. It doesn't seem particularly clean but Remus knows he will surely smell good. Gasoline a little, and Sirius, a lot. He loosens up his tie, lifts the collar of his dirty shirt, and pulls it over his head. He unbuttons the buttons but only the first and strips right there, muttering protests against Peter "and the chronic incoordination of him and his irrepressible thrill of him. We should put diapers on him". When he takes off the shirt, it catches an instant with his arms and when he manages to get rid of it, he's disheveled. And naked, of course. With Remus and Lily in the bed beside. The muscles in his arms and back are insinuated with more strength than those of the stomach, where a straight line of soft male hair hides sinuously underpants.

- In case you don't remember, I'm here, Black.

- You're always here, Evans.

He puts the shirt on without much thought. And he leaves the room with the same bad humor that he brought. Or slightly angrier, perhaps.

Before closing the door he looks at the bed.

- You know what, man?

Remus raises his head from the book. He tries not to think about his arms, nor his back, not that hair on his chest.

- To not like girls, pal, you spend all the time in the world with one. -

He looks at Lily with that scowl. - Why don't you give it a try with that bastard James and you go out with him in a filthy bloody time and leave some Remus to the others?

He leaves slamming the door. A thud that resonates loudly in Remus's heart.

-He's an unbearable spoiled ass- Lily sentenced. Note under the head how Remus's chest beats. Fast. Strong. Intense. As if in instead of one, a pack of wolves will inhabit.

- If I wanted to stop loving him, I wouldn't know where to start.

-You say it because he has taken off his shirt but it is not his merit to be so well done, you know it is not his merit at all, aren't you?.

Lily invites him to read on, so she obeys. "leave some Remus for the others". Among all Baudelaire's words, she cannot find others that excite her so much.

"When the reproaches of an injured dog seem worthy of a poetic anthology is when you have no cure".

What difference does it make? He has long known that his thing for Sirius, as the Lycanthropy is an incurable disease.