Author's note: CW for mentioning wounds, knives, and possibly emetophobia? I'm still unsure whether "feeling like" you're going to should be tagged or not.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Chapters 6 and 7 have been deleted for now until I figure things out for the story. I am currently on hiatus. Sorry for the confusion and thank you for the support
6/19: I will be returning to posting chapters in July :)
-x-
Remus stared in complete shock, unable to comprehend or believe what he was looking at. For a second he thought maybe he was still asleep, still dreaming.
"Can I come in? S'bit chilly out."
"Um... y-yeah...?"
Remus climbed off his dresser, keeping his wand up so Sirius could see as he slid through the narrow window down into Remus's room, landing on the dresser with a slight thud. Remus backed up so his friend could get off the dresser. First Sirius dragged some things into the room, which he set on the dresser then, once on the floor, he turned around, beaming proudly at Remus as he held his arms out.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Remus hissed out.
Sirius's smile faltered. "What, no hello?"
Sirius's scent hit Remus's nostrils and he stiffened, squaring his shoulders. "Rather, I think the more imperative question is why do you smell like blood?"
Sirius dropped his arms. "That didn't take long. Really? I haven't seen you in a month and this is the greeting I get?"
Remus blinked at him then stepped forward, accepting the hug. It felt so warm and nice, until he carefully hugged back and heard Sirius's sharp intake of breath. "You're injured."
"A little bit. Got into a fight with one of my cousins, that's all." Sirius gave him another squeeze then let go, pushing his hair back as he surveyed the room.
"How... did..." He glanced at the things Sirius had pulled in. An old-fashioned broom and a camo-cloak which only really worked for night-fliers. "Your cousins. You were..."
"In Pembrokeshire," Sirius finished for him. "Which, by the way, is somewhat near here despite what you said in your letter, you little liar. Less than a hundred miles."
"You flew?"
Sirius folded his arms, leaning against the desk. "Yeah. Everyone was mad at me. I had to get away for a while. I was going to go to Uncle Alphard's, but he's in France until tomorrow. I wasn't sure what to do but then found a map and saw Dragon's Field was only a little under two hours by flight on that old broom."
Remus frowned. "How did you know I lived in Dragon's Field? How—how did you know where I lived at all?!"
"You told me," Sirius said. "Remember?"
"No!"
"Over Christmas, you said it took a lot of petrol to get from Dragon's Field to London. And you've talked enough about your house so I knew what I was looking for." He looked exceedingly proud as he spoke. "An attached garage and a garden out back with a high stone wall, a couple of miles outside of the nearby wizarding community. I circled around till I saw this place."
Remus pressed his fingers against his temple, head reeling over all of this. "You—"
"I know I can't stay," Sirius said quickly. "I just... wanted to rest somewhere. And I wanted to see you."
That's when Remus realized Sirius was very slightly slurring his words. "Are you drunk?"
"No, wish I was though," he laughed. "Make things a hell of a lot better, I think."
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