(no subject)
Title: Thought Processes
Author:
godricgal
Prompt: 11
Warning: None
Format and word count: Ficlet, 447
Summary: Post HPB, Remus attempts to reconcile himself with Tonk’s love
Author’s Notes: It’s been a few days, I’ve lost all creative energies but for some reason this came to me tonight. I must thank
mrstater for her beta help and general support. Oh, and the title sucks, alternative suggestions would be as much appreciated as concrit for the fic.
In the moments that preceded unconscious slumber, he watched her.
The rise and fall of her chest in a dreamless sleep he found hypnotic, he couldn’t help but wonder if tomorrow would be the day she’d wake up and decide him to be an unsuitable partner. He knew that it was an insecurity deeply ingrained in the manner of feeling he had paved for himself too may years ago; the dark path of sorrow that only she could retrieve him from.
He hated himself for doubting her.
It would take a long time before he could shed the feeling that his actions had been rooted in self-interest, before the passage of time could make his decision feel right when considered with a logical mind
Logic though, could not compete with or vie for the sensation caused by her arms wrapped around his body, the sturdy rock of her companionship, the command that her lips, when pressed against his brought over his body or the feeling of immortality that being close to her presented him.
Love undiscerning, forged new and exciting passages in his land of self denial. New beginnings, untold, brought both hope and fear.
He longed to give her everything, all of him: mind and body but long established habit forced a gradual process. He hoped she understood; he needed her to wait for him.
She’d been patient so far and he loved her all the more for it. In fact, she almost seemed to revel in the metaphorical unwrapping of his parcel of humanity, as if each layer was something to be cherished. It gave him a thrill to think of himself as desirable as she made him feel.
Time whispered through stolen moments, her touch gave the impression of foreseen yet unknown promises; the prospect of freedom from worry and grief at last tangible.
He loved her, no doubt, but could the fire between them ever melt the shield of ice that blocked him from handing over his soul?
Unbidden, his imagined opinion of her thoughts flooded his mind. Stop thinking, start living. When had she begun to command the ability to influence his thoughts? If he was honest with himself, it was from the very beginning, when he first met her and made her smile. Whoever could wish not to reproduce that smile was a fool.
As the youth of the night waned, he held her ever more tightly. He endeavoured to err himself from the course of doubt, to give what she deserved to receive and to try to give himself completely to the path of love she had lain before them.