Fifty-Two
Title: Fifty-Two
Author: jenulus
Format and Word Count: Ficlet, 996 words.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Err... none really.
Summary: She walked into the entryway, and there they were, back at the scene of the crime. They returned every night, stood in the same places every night, followed the same ritual every damn night.
Author's Notes: Not quite what I expected this piece to be, but overall, I'm happy with it. I hope you like it!
Genre:Romance? Sure, why not.
"Well, I guess I'll call it a night. Walk me out?" Tonks asked as she stood from the settee in the parlor. Sirius had long since gone to bed, after an excruciating (to Remus, at least) night of firewhiskey and reminiscing over the long-past Valentine’s Days antics of James Potter attempting to woo Lily.
With a deep sigh, Remus stood and followed her as he tried to steel his resolve yet again, a process that had been forced to begin earlier and earlier each night for almost two months. First, it had been as she stood in the doorway and looked at him through her lashes as she softly said goodnight; then it started over their post-dinner glass of port, when her eyes would darken slightly and her skin flushed beautifully in response to the alcohol. Tonight, he had been forced to look away and chastise himself when, during dinner, she had thrown her head back in a laugh that made him long to kiss her, just there, in the hollow of her throat. He was beginning to hope for an assignment, a long one, that would take him away and give him some respite. It would be difficult, to be sure, to be away from her but he had to believe it would be better than this torture.
She walked into the entryway, and there they were, back at the scene of the crime. They returned every night, stood in the same places every night, followed the same ritual every damn night and it took every single ounce of Remus' will power not to throw himself headlong at her again, just as he had Christmas Eve, when five glasses of Elvin wine had upended his reason and given him just enough courage to snog her senseless under the mistletoe without any warning from him or permission from her whatsoever.
And so here they were, on Valentine's Day, after another long night of dinner and laughter and smiles and innocent touches, two months removed from the most fantastic kiss of Remus' life, which was made all the more precious and painful by the fact that it would never happen again. He should be grateful. Hell, he should be pleased that she seemed willing to overlook his drunken antics and return to the safety of their friendship, willing to never even bring up the topic for conversation. But he wasn’t grateful. He wanted her to want him to kiss her. He just couldn’t imagine that the Nymphadora he knew wouldn’t have said something by now if that were what she wanted, and so they just continued this saying-goodbye custom as if nothing had ever happened.
She was fastening her scarf around her neck just like she always did, both pre- and post-kiss; an orange and teal monstrosity that clashed with her pink hair. When she had finished, she looked directly at him. He looked past her shoulder, teeth clenched with his damned resolve, then reached for her outer robes that hung on a hook beside the door. He held it out for her, and watched as she turned around, slipping her arms into the sleeves. She turned back around to face him as she fastened it. She looked at him again. He looked to the floor. All that was left now was the goodbye.
"Kiss me," she said instead.
Startled, he looked at her.
"We've said goodnight every night since Christmas Eve in this exact spot, Remus Lupin. Every single night. It's now Valentines Day. That's... that's..."
"Fifty-two," he supplied.
"Fifty-two nights. Fifty-two goodbyes. Just last week I saw Hestia kiss your cheek under this mistletoe, so I know that you know it's still there," she said, pointing into the rafters above them at the dried-out sprig of mistletoe left-over from Sirius' bout of Christmas cheer.
"Yes, I know it's still there. I told Sirius to take it down."
"And I told him to leave it up. And 'Auror with Training in Lethal Tactics' trumps 'Best Friend of 25 Years' every time."
He had nothing to say.
"Don't you want to kiss me, Remus? After Christmas, I had sort of hoped it would become a regular event," she said, her posture shy-- shoulders hunched slightly, eyes down, shifting her weight between her feet restlessly-- despite her bold words.
"It's not that I haven't wanted..."
She looked up, eyes intense. "So kiss me already! It's Valentine's Day, it's late, it's snowing outside, we're standing under mistletoe, we're saying good-bye, and we're alone. You can't possibly think there will be a better time. Or do you? Shall I use fireworks? Set fairy lights in the bushes and try again tomorrow? What in all that is good and holy and right--"
Just as he had imagined doing every night and every day since Christmas Eve, Remus clutched the back of Tonks' neck and drew her to him swiftly. Kissing her thoroughly, he placed one hand firmly at the small of her back, keeping her pressed against him. The other hand gently stroked the hair over her right ear before moving down her jaw and finally coming to rest lightly in that hollow in her throat, that place that had enthralled him at dinner, now hidden by her scarf. Pressing into her until she was backed against the wall, he kissed her until his only choice was either die kissing her, or separate and live to kiss again. He pulled away softly, resting his forehead against hers. Taking a deep breath, he admitted, "I just wanted... I needed you to ask."
"Well, I didn't ask so much as command, but now that that's done, you'd better not make me wait the however-many-days until St. Patrick's Day to kiss me again."
"Thirty-one," he said with a smirk. "I'm not sure I can wait that many seconds, actually," He kissed her again before asking, "And by 'regular event', you meant..."
"Not just kissing goodbye, I'll tell you that much. Kiss me again."
Author: jenulus
Format and Word Count: Ficlet, 996 words.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Err... none really.
Summary: She walked into the entryway, and there they were, back at the scene of the crime. They returned every night, stood in the same places every night, followed the same ritual every damn night.
Author's Notes: Not quite what I expected this piece to be, but overall, I'm happy with it. I hope you like it!
Genre:Romance? Sure, why not.
"Well, I guess I'll call it a night. Walk me out?" Tonks asked as she stood from the settee in the parlor. Sirius had long since gone to bed, after an excruciating (to Remus, at least) night of firewhiskey and reminiscing over the long-past Valentine’s Days antics of James Potter attempting to woo Lily.
With a deep sigh, Remus stood and followed her as he tried to steel his resolve yet again, a process that had been forced to begin earlier and earlier each night for almost two months. First, it had been as she stood in the doorway and looked at him through her lashes as she softly said goodnight; then it started over their post-dinner glass of port, when her eyes would darken slightly and her skin flushed beautifully in response to the alcohol. Tonight, he had been forced to look away and chastise himself when, during dinner, she had thrown her head back in a laugh that made him long to kiss her, just there, in the hollow of her throat. He was beginning to hope for an assignment, a long one, that would take him away and give him some respite. It would be difficult, to be sure, to be away from her but he had to believe it would be better than this torture.
She walked into the entryway, and there they were, back at the scene of the crime. They returned every night, stood in the same places every night, followed the same ritual every damn night and it took every single ounce of Remus' will power not to throw himself headlong at her again, just as he had Christmas Eve, when five glasses of Elvin wine had upended his reason and given him just enough courage to snog her senseless under the mistletoe without any warning from him or permission from her whatsoever.
And so here they were, on Valentine's Day, after another long night of dinner and laughter and smiles and innocent touches, two months removed from the most fantastic kiss of Remus' life, which was made all the more precious and painful by the fact that it would never happen again. He should be grateful. Hell, he should be pleased that she seemed willing to overlook his drunken antics and return to the safety of their friendship, willing to never even bring up the topic for conversation. But he wasn’t grateful. He wanted her to want him to kiss her. He just couldn’t imagine that the Nymphadora he knew wouldn’t have said something by now if that were what she wanted, and so they just continued this saying-goodbye custom as if nothing had ever happened.
She was fastening her scarf around her neck just like she always did, both pre- and post-kiss; an orange and teal monstrosity that clashed with her pink hair. When she had finished, she looked directly at him. He looked past her shoulder, teeth clenched with his damned resolve, then reached for her outer robes that hung on a hook beside the door. He held it out for her, and watched as she turned around, slipping her arms into the sleeves. She turned back around to face him as she fastened it. She looked at him again. He looked to the floor. All that was left now was the goodbye.
"Kiss me," she said instead.
Startled, he looked at her.
"We've said goodnight every night since Christmas Eve in this exact spot, Remus Lupin. Every single night. It's now Valentines Day. That's... that's..."
"Fifty-two," he supplied.
"Fifty-two nights. Fifty-two goodbyes. Just last week I saw Hestia kiss your cheek under this mistletoe, so I know that you know it's still there," she said, pointing into the rafters above them at the dried-out sprig of mistletoe left-over from Sirius' bout of Christmas cheer.
"Yes, I know it's still there. I told Sirius to take it down."
"And I told him to leave it up. And 'Auror with Training in Lethal Tactics' trumps 'Best Friend of 25 Years' every time."
He had nothing to say.
"Don't you want to kiss me, Remus? After Christmas, I had sort of hoped it would become a regular event," she said, her posture shy-- shoulders hunched slightly, eyes down, shifting her weight between her feet restlessly-- despite her bold words.
"It's not that I haven't wanted..."
She looked up, eyes intense. "So kiss me already! It's Valentine's Day, it's late, it's snowing outside, we're standing under mistletoe, we're saying good-bye, and we're alone. You can't possibly think there will be a better time. Or do you? Shall I use fireworks? Set fairy lights in the bushes and try again tomorrow? What in all that is good and holy and right--"
Just as he had imagined doing every night and every day since Christmas Eve, Remus clutched the back of Tonks' neck and drew her to him swiftly. Kissing her thoroughly, he placed one hand firmly at the small of her back, keeping her pressed against him. The other hand gently stroked the hair over her right ear before moving down her jaw and finally coming to rest lightly in that hollow in her throat, that place that had enthralled him at dinner, now hidden by her scarf. Pressing into her until she was backed against the wall, he kissed her until his only choice was either die kissing her, or separate and live to kiss again. He pulled away softly, resting his forehead against hers. Taking a deep breath, he admitted, "I just wanted... I needed you to ask."
"Well, I didn't ask so much as command, but now that that's done, you'd better not make me wait the however-many-days until St. Patrick's Day to kiss me again."
"Thirty-one," he said with a smirk. "I'm not sure I can wait that many seconds, actually," He kissed her again before asking, "And by 'regular event', you meant..."
"Not just kissing goodbye, I'll tell you that much. Kiss me again."