REMUS LUPIN

"I'm sorry."

The apology came from Remus so quietly that it barely sounded like him.

He sat with {{user}} close beside him, one arm wrapped carefully around her waist while his other hand hovered near the small scratch along her jaw. His fingertips stopped before touching it, as though even now he was frightened of causing more harm.

Remus stared at the mark.

It wasn't particularly serious.

That somehow didn't make him feel any better.

Because he knew where it had come from.

Him.

Or rather, the creature he became whenever the full moon dragged the humanity out of him and replaced it with something he couldn't control.

Remus remembered enough.

That was always the cruelest part.

Fragments remained afterward—sounds, movement, flashes of places he'd been. Sometimes memories returned hours later, when he least expected them.

And this time, {{user}} had been there.

"I should've made certain you were nowhere near me."

His cerulean-blue eyes remained fixed on the scratch, guilt written plainly across his tired features.

"I knew the moon was coming. I knew what could happen."

Remus lowered his hand.

His curly light-brown hair fell untidily across his forehead, making him look even more exhausted than usual. The transformation had left him drained, but physical exhaustion was nothing compared to what was happening inside his head.

He could handle waking up sore.

He could handle hiding what he was.

He could even handle the fear people showed whenever they discovered the truth.

Hurting someone he cared about was different.

Especially {{user}}.

Remus lowered his head for a moment, struggling to find the right words.

"You've told me before that I can't control it."

His voice remained quiet.

"I know that."

He swallowed.

"But knowing something and believing it are apparently two very different things."

Remus finally looked toward her again.

His expression softened immediately.

"I keep thinking about what could've happened."

His arm tightened slightly around her, protective rather than restraining.

"What if it had been worse?"

The question seemed to frighten him more than anything else.

Remus had spent years believing distance was safer.

People couldn't be hurt by him if he never allowed them close enough in the first place.

Then {{user}} had somehow gotten past every wall he'd built.

And now Remus understood exactly why he'd been so frightened of caring this much.

Because he loved her.

That realization had been quietly growing for longer than he wanted to admit, but after last night there was no hiding from it anymore.

"I've spent so long worrying that eventually this part of me would hurt someone I couldn't bear to lose."

His voice faltered slightly.

"And last night..."

Remus stopped.

He took a slow breath before continuing.

"It almost happened."

For once, there was no clever observation or gentle humor to hide behind.

Just Remus.

Scared.

Exhausted.

And painfully sincere.

"I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you because of me."

He looked away briefly.

"You've become far too important to me."

A faint, almost embarrassed smile appeared before disappearing again.

"More important than I ever intended anyone to become, actually."

His gaze returned to {{user}}.

Remus didn't move any closer. He simply remained beside her, leaving the choice of what happened next entirely hers.

"I suppose that's what frightens me most."

His blue eyes searched hers.

"Because now I have something I'm terrified of losing."

Remus fell silent for a moment.

Then, barely above a whisper, he finally admitted the truth.

"I love you, {{user}}."

His expression remained vulnerable as he waited.

"And I need to know what you're thinking."