⠀ ❝ And in the back of her mind, Katie knew that her words were a lie. Because if her nightmares could creep up into her mind and become her reality, she would be damned if this Remus Lupin - his lips, his hands, his ragged breath, his willing rec...
[ He's going to come around. No matter how long it damn well takes. He'll come around." ]
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The pale morning light hit the closed eyelids of the pale, young male lying on the cot.
It was early morning - right around dawn - the sun barely seeping through the white linen curtains that hung around the large windows.
Remus, though excruciatingly tired, opened his eyes slowly, blurry from grogginess and lack of sleep. Due to his sleep deprivation, he couldn't quite recall what happened the night before just yet, a slight ache around his temples, causing him to groan slightly.
It took him a while to realize where he was, his eyes still blinking back sleepiness as he swiveled his slightly blurred vision around the large room. The hospital wing.
He shook his head slightly from confusion. The four of them always returned to their dormitories after full moons, seeing as nobody was to know about them being animangi, even Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey.
There were new, fresh scars on his arms; more than there usually were, ranging in size. Running his fingers over them slightly, he could feel the rough, torn skin that was left behind by the marks. It must have been a rough night, he thought to himself.
There were nights where he would transform where he and the rest of the Marauders wouldn't have to thrash around fighting each other. Those nights, the company of the animals were enough to keep him from becoming hostile.
Other nights, he would be so anxious that the moment he transformed, he would begin to scratch and claw at whatever he could get near. This would prompt a long fight between the four, which left many scars.
Remus lay his head back down on the small, white pillow on his bed. He turned his body, snuggling a bit into the thin blankets and sheets, attempting to become more comfortable. The light coming through the thin curtains was dim, barely visible. He had intended to get a little more sleep, but he instead found himself with eyes-wide open, staring at the vast white ceiling above him.
He couldn't remember much from the night before. He hadn't had such a difficult time remembering the terrible nights since the days of his childhood, where his small, young mind was often too terrified and too tired to remember.
Bits and pieces were coming back to him as he lay contemplating, fluttering his eyes open and close. He cringed slightly when the memories of how violent and brutal the werewolf was came to him. It had to be one of his most violent transformations yet.
Closing his eyes, he sighed, trailing a hand over his face slowly. He continued going over his memories of last night when he suddenly remembered something. Well, someone to be precise. He sat up quickly in his bed, already unraveling himself from the sheets when he heard James' sleepy voice from the chair next to his.
