Prompt 6- A Whimsy Notion
Title: A Whimsy Notion
Author:
summoning_muse
Format & Word Count: Ficlet, 802 Words
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 6: Whimsy
Warning: Post sex ness and other mentions of sex
Summary: Remus realizes that sometimes you have to set aside your brain, because it just sets you into a fat lot of trouble. Of course, the matter of which he decides this may not be the best of ones.
Author's Note: I really DO want to hit Remus over the head, you know -_-. *Sighs and gets into his I'm-not-worthy mindset* Oh, well, happy birthday dear, you're an idiot. I'm SO far behind on these, but I WILL catch up, and I'll probably write today's during lunch.
A Whimsy Notion
"We could get married, you know."
It was a whimsical notion, curled up together in the early hours of the day, the pre dawn light painting everything in soft shades of grey. A tendril of grey-tinged raspberry hair lay across her bare breast. Remus curled it around his finger and shifted so he could stare at her, his fuzzy brain not completly comprehending her words. "Hmmm?" He asked.
"We could get married." Nervousness was starting to color her words, and she blushed. "I mean, that is, if you wanted to, I mean I thought, er-" She blushed even deeper, and glanced down, and he thought of the heated mummers of a few hours previous, of promises made under the haze of moonlight of forever and never leave again and I love you...
He stared at her, at her curves (too sharp, too bony, which was completly and utterly his fault, and he could never, ever forget that- what he had done to her) in the crescent moon's light. She was biting her lip, and crossed her arms, fidgeting slightly.
Gods, was she beautiful. And god, did he not deserve her. She deserved better than him, she would always deserve better than him.
And he couldn't find that he had the willpower to undo those lust-muttered words, or even had a desire to. He still knew he should have kept on not giving in, staying strong, distancing himself from her, that she would eventually see exactly what a life with him would entitle, and exactly how pathetic of a man he was and how she deserved so, so much better. But God, he wasn't strong enough anymore, and he was a selfish man. He wanted to see her happy. He wanted to see her hair morph into bright pink and her mouth curling into a delighted smile, and feel the way her nails would dig into his back and she would mummer his name when they were both lost beyond rescue in each other, and... all of it. He wanted all of it. And he couldn't make her unhappy, even if it was for her greater good.
And a hundred times infinitely worse, she was like a drug to him, and he was addicted, and god was she sweet, and he couldn't live without her. His life wasn't worth very much, but it couldn't function without her.
And suddenly, images sprang to mind. Of them, old and gray, (not that he wasn't well on his way there already, of course) lying together, and children. Many, many generations of wonderful, beautiful children. He quickly shook off the second alternative- he knew he could never, ever, have children, at risk of them contracting his ailment, and yet-
"Remus...???" She whispered, lip trembling, and he realized he had still not answered.
"You know, I was just being silly!" She exclaimed suddenly, laughing unnaturally shrilly, "I'm sorry. That's, I mean, I was just joking, and I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable- wish I already have, of course- when you've just finally gotten around to being with me again- oh, that sounds terrible as well, doesn't it? And you're going to be extra uncomfortable, and maybe I should really just keep my mouth shut, and-" She was blabbering.
"Yes." He whispered.
"Really, the world would be MUCH better off if one Nymphadora Tonks could just learn to put one of her bloody left feet in her bloody mouth and- what?" She blinked, her tirade halted suddenly, her mouth dropping open into a pretty pink O.
"Yes." Thoughts, protests, were still forming in his head, of course, when would his mind ever not protest this, but he looked at her, gazed- at this lovely, wonderful, beautiful girl who for some unfathomable reason couldn't live without him. Whom wanted nothing more than to marry him. And for once, he decided to shove his bloody brain aside. It had only ever gotten him into a fat lot of trouble most of the time, anyway. James and Sirius had told him so since he was eleven, that he needed to stop over-thinking everything and just live. At the time he had glared at them, because they somehow could both be geniuses and not think at all, which was absolutely ridiculous and highly annoying.
"Yes." He said, again, the word lovely and powerful on his lips. He opened his mouth to say more, to probably go into detail of how he decided to stop thinking so much, but then she was kissing him again, crushing her body to him, lips telling him of everything their future could hold. And he didn't need to say anything else- his hands roaming over her body, pulling her close, running along her spine, caressing- that said everything he'd ever need to.
He sank into her again.
Author:
summoning_muse
Format & Word Count: Ficlet, 802 Words
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 6: Whimsy
Warning: Post sex ness and other mentions of sex
Summary: Remus realizes that sometimes you have to set aside your brain, because it just sets you into a fat lot of trouble. Of course, the matter of which he decides this may not be the best of ones.
Author's Note: I really DO want to hit Remus over the head, you know -_-. *Sighs and gets into his I'm-not-worthy mindset* Oh, well, happy birthday dear, you're an idiot. I'm SO far behind on these, but I WILL catch up, and I'll probably write today's during lunch.
A Whimsy Notion
"We could get married, you know."
It was a whimsical notion, curled up together in the early hours of the day, the pre dawn light painting everything in soft shades of grey. A tendril of grey-tinged raspberry hair lay across her bare breast. Remus curled it around his finger and shifted so he could stare at her, his fuzzy brain not completly comprehending her words. "Hmmm?" He asked.
"We could get married." Nervousness was starting to color her words, and she blushed. "I mean, that is, if you wanted to, I mean I thought, er-" She blushed even deeper, and glanced down, and he thought of the heated mummers of a few hours previous, of promises made under the haze of moonlight of forever and never leave again and I love you...
He stared at her, at her curves (too sharp, too bony, which was completly and utterly his fault, and he could never, ever forget that- what he had done to her) in the crescent moon's light. She was biting her lip, and crossed her arms, fidgeting slightly.
Gods, was she beautiful. And god, did he not deserve her. She deserved better than him, she would always deserve better than him.
And he couldn't find that he had the willpower to undo those lust-muttered words, or even had a desire to. He still knew he should have kept on not giving in, staying strong, distancing himself from her, that she would eventually see exactly what a life with him would entitle, and exactly how pathetic of a man he was and how she deserved so, so much better. But God, he wasn't strong enough anymore, and he was a selfish man. He wanted to see her happy. He wanted to see her hair morph into bright pink and her mouth curling into a delighted smile, and feel the way her nails would dig into his back and she would mummer his name when they were both lost beyond rescue in each other, and... all of it. He wanted all of it. And he couldn't make her unhappy, even if it was for her greater good.
And a hundred times infinitely worse, she was like a drug to him, and he was addicted, and god was she sweet, and he couldn't live without her. His life wasn't worth very much, but it couldn't function without her.
And suddenly, images sprang to mind. Of them, old and gray, (not that he wasn't well on his way there already, of course) lying together, and children. Many, many generations of wonderful, beautiful children. He quickly shook off the second alternative- he knew he could never, ever, have children, at risk of them contracting his ailment, and yet-
"Remus...???" She whispered, lip trembling, and he realized he had still not answered.
"You know, I was just being silly!" She exclaimed suddenly, laughing unnaturally shrilly, "I'm sorry. That's, I mean, I was just joking, and I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable- wish I already have, of course- when you've just finally gotten around to being with me again- oh, that sounds terrible as well, doesn't it? And you're going to be extra uncomfortable, and maybe I should really just keep my mouth shut, and-" She was blabbering.
"Yes." He whispered.
"Really, the world would be MUCH better off if one Nymphadora Tonks could just learn to put one of her bloody left feet in her bloody mouth and- what?" She blinked, her tirade halted suddenly, her mouth dropping open into a pretty pink O.
"Yes." Thoughts, protests, were still forming in his head, of course, when would his mind ever not protest this, but he looked at her, gazed- at this lovely, wonderful, beautiful girl who for some unfathomable reason couldn't live without him. Whom wanted nothing more than to marry him. And for once, he decided to shove his bloody brain aside. It had only ever gotten him into a fat lot of trouble most of the time, anyway. James and Sirius had told him so since he was eleven, that he needed to stop over-thinking everything and just live. At the time he had glared at them, because they somehow could both be geniuses and not think at all, which was absolutely ridiculous and highly annoying.
"Yes." He said, again, the word lovely and powerful on his lips. He opened his mouth to say more, to probably go into detail of how he decided to stop thinking so much, but then she was kissing him again, crushing her body to him, lips telling him of everything their future could hold. And he didn't need to say anything else- his hands roaming over her body, pulling her close, running along her spine, caressing- that said everything he'd ever need to.
He sank into her again.