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𝕿he sun was peeping from the blinds, illuminating a golden glow in our bedroom when i'd finally stirred from my slumber, cherishing the comfort my shared bed with Remus brings.
I love staying at the Potters', much like the Lupin cottage and Newt's too, though his is my childhood home so would always battle its keep in my heart— none of them rivalled our Moontree cottage.
The first night being back I had collapsed onto the mattress as the sun went down and woke up around noon, something Remus had thoroughly enjoyed teasing me with, stating I was like a badger in the winter— underground where it's warm and safe for hours on end, sheltering from the outside world.
He wasn't complaining though, he was more than happy for me to take some time to re charge, he knows lots of chaos and social interactions drains me mentally, emotionally and physically.
I grumbled to myself, yawning with my eyes groggily blinking open and closed in a repeated manner, swinging myself up to lean against the headboard after realising the absence of said werewolf.
After initially frowning, a sudden ping flashed in my mind, my hand reaching to fumble under his pillow, smirking to myself when I found our copy of 'Romeo and Juliet', opening to the page I spied a piece of loose parchment, warmth blooming in my chest as I read over the familiar scrawl of him,
'Hi,
I've nipped into the village for the shopping, i'll probably drop some things off by mum and dad's too. So, that's where I am, or I'm downstairs if you managed to sleep yourself through that too, suppose it's a surprise for you, Buttercup.
(That's if your Weird Witchcraft hasn't already informed you, like it had done when you found this note)
-Your Re ❀♡︎☽'
I chuckled fondly to myself, feeling my body bask in the warmth his note managed to soak me in. He knew. He knew i'd wonder where he was, and check under his pillow for the copy of our play. It's so simple, yet so intricately meaningful to us and to us alone, from the two lettered word at the beginning to the badly doodled buttercup, heart and crescent moon by his signature. It's us.
Throwing on the closest sweater I could find, I shuffled my feet into my awaiting slippers and padded out of our bedroom, and towards downstairs with a small skip in my step, looking forward to a day of relaxing and breathing without having to contemplate it could be my last with war crushing on our backs.
The kitchen and living room were empty of him, only the living house plants and overflowing books on the shelves that magically came to existence when you got engrossed in them. Something told me he was back already, perhaps the tingling in my nose from his lingering scent.
A glimpse of loose sandy curls caught my eye in the window, spurring me to open the door, and stumble towards the being inhaling a drag of the cigarette hanging between his lips as he stares musingly to the meadows and fields surrounding us.
