Realization and Romance

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NYMPHADORA

She told him she likes him. He doesn't like her. He doesn't like her. He doesn't like her. The words played over and over in her head, and she chanted them to herself, a sort of improvised mantra. With each step she took, she was taking a step farther and farther from him, and though it pained her heart, she knew it had to be done. He may have hurt her heart, but she wouldn't lose her dignity too.

When she left in a hurry, she hadn't known where she was going. She just knew that anywhere was better than there, with him, and those damned pitying glances of the others. Charging through the kitchen, she was out the door before she had a clear destination. Closing her eyes, she concentrated, and suddenly she was in her flat, tears streaming down her face. Clenching her teeth she growled in frustration.

She didn't want to cry about him, but she couldn't seem to stop it. Her heart tightened as she remembered his shell-shocked face, eyes wide with pity. She groaned again. The one person she falls in love with has to be the one who doesn't love her back.

That's enough, she thought. She might be crying, but she wasn't going to drown in self-pity. She wouldn't let that happen. She would find someone, someone other than him. A shudder went through her at the thought, followed by a groan. She was hopeless, she could never get over him, because she honestly didn't want to.

She couldn't believe that she had said that. She had never meant for him to find out she had far less than platonic-there was that damned word again-feelings for him. She would've rather kept them secret than lose their friendship. But she just couldn't help it, it all came rushing out. And on top of it all, he didn't believe that he was worthy of anyone.

Her mind just couldn't figure that out. Was the world really so cruel that one of the nicest, most human people believed that he was a monster? She knew what it was like to be different, looked down upon by society. She had gotten many a dirty glance or a sneer due to her Metamorphagus abilities, hut it was nothing compared to Remus. The werewolf prejudice had been growing for years, and Tonks knew that had to hurt.

Tonks curled up on the couch in the ancient afghan her mother had knitted years ago. Tears ran down her face, and she wasn't sure if she was crying more about what happened or realizing just what Remus had to endure as a child.

A loud knock on the door startled her, and without thinking, she croaked out, "nobody's home." She clasped a hand over her mouth and cursed her own stupidity.

"Erm, Tonks? It's...Remus. Can...can I come in please?" Her heart lurched and then she clenched her teeth. He was not making getting over him easy.

"I suppose. It's not like I'd care if you broke my door down, it's not the first thing you've broken tonight." Her heart.

"Err...right, then. Thanks." The door opened and she felt his eyes on her frame, still curled in a ball on the couch in that ratty old afghan and she looked up at him and saw the genuine concern in those chocolate eyes of his, and she started sobbing again.

Panic-stricken, Remus slowly, hesitantly came over, sitting precariously on the edge of the couch, and Tonks felt him move closer and closer still, until his arms were hesitantly wrapping around her. And oh, she had never felt so safe.

She couldn't help it, she started sobbing louder, clutching his shoulder and leaning on his chest, inhaling that wonderful scent that was completely him, and despite her tears, wishing hat she could simply stay there forever.

As she cried, his hands rubbed slow, soothing circles on her back, and it just felt so...perfect. But like all perfect things, it came to an end. When her tears stopped falling, Remus pulled away, looking her in the eye, chocolate eyes questioning, wondering.

"Dora...I need to know. Did...did you mean what you said before, all of it?" His voice was soft, with a hint of hope in it. His gaze had dropped to the patterns on her couch.

Tonks sighed. "Yes, Remus. I did. I meant every single word of it."

He looked up, his expression one completely blank except for the hope and...happiness in his ambery chocolate orbs. "You..did? Er, right. Well," he paused, clearing his throat before continuing, "so, you see. I suppose it's time I told you, then."

"Tonks, I like you. As more than a friend. And I know I shouldn't, but I just can't help it. I was never going to tell you, because I can't bear to lose our friendship. But when you told me that, that you..liked me. I had to tell you this. I never saw the kiss as platonic." He paused and shuddered at that word, then continued on. "I never saw our friendship as platonic either. You've managed to catch my heart, and for that I'm eternally sorry."

Tonks stared at him, eyes wide, heart beating a mile a minute. There was a lot that she wanted to say, but she thought one part was more important than the others. "What do you mean that you're sorry? Do...do you hate me that much?" she asked him, unable to keep the hurt out of her voice.

He looked at her, shock written on his features. He paused for a moment in his astonishment. Here he was confessing his feelings for her, and she thought he didn't like her? He must've hesitated a moment too long because Tonks' eyes filled with tears. He hurriedly answered. "Nymphadora Tonks. You listen to me right now. I'm sorry because it's my fault that an old lecherous werewolf lo-likes you. I could never hate you, and that's the problem. I can her be mad, or sad or disappointed with you. You make me feel. Hell, I'd forgotten what love was like until you came into my life. And for that, I'm eternally grateful, but I do hope you realize that this can never work."

Tonks was now standing, having risen off his chest, and her arms crossed angrily. "What the bloody hell do you mean, this can never work? Do you mean a relationship Remus? How do you know that? We haven't even been on a single date."

He ran a hand through his prematurely graying hair. "I'm a werewolf. Not to mention that I'm at least what, ten years older than you? I'm practically your parents' age, and with the looks to match. I'm not young Tonks, I'm not safe, and I'm far from what one would call wealthy." He sighed his voice calming, and he let his gaze slide just to the left of her. "You deserve so much better."

"Oh, Remus!" She cried out, and ran into his arms. "You absolute buffoon! I only want you. I don't care about money, and age is not just a number. My parents aren't anywhere near you in age." She scowled at his exaggeration. "As for the werewolf bit, I thought we went over this when I first met you, I don't bloody care. I've wanted to be with since the moment I laid eyes on you, and now you're going to keep us apart because of your ridiculous self-pity-induced reasons? Not if I have anything to say about it." She finished with a huff, and a small smile graced her features as she saw the dumbstruck look and blush on Remus' face.

"You, you really mean that? Don't you want to think things through?" He asked, disbelief clear in his silky voice.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I mean it. I haven't daydreamed of being with you and not thought of the consequences and obstacles in the way."

Remus went quiet, staring at his feet. "But that doesn't mean that it won't be worth it. Every time I've thought of being with you, Remus, and believe me, that's an awful lot, I've come to the same astonishing conclusion. It would be worth it. You're worth it."

He gasped. Tonks.... His heart beat a mile a minute, and for the life of him, he couldn't strong coherent thoughts together, much less words. But he didn't have to speak, as actions can speak for a thousand words.

For the second time in that week, gentlemanly, level-headed Remus Lupin gave into his heart and acted impulsively. He bent down, and their lips met.

Fin.

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