day 5 - wrapping paper
Remus rolled over and felt the crunch of paper beneath him; the crunch of wrapping paper to be more precise. He let out a sigh, taking in the untidy mass of left over wrapping papers and piles of presents, a rush of warmth flooding through him at the memories of yesterday and how utterly perfect it had been. The gentle murmur of the man beside him caused him to turn, his eyes clicking with the perfect grey eyes of Sirius Black.
"Morning," Sirius smirked, "remind me, how did we get here and why aren't we in bed?" Remus felt a smile of his own creeping across his cheeks.
"I think I might just need reminding of the exact same thing,"
"I seem to remember it being possibly one of the best nights of my life," Sirius winked before pressing his lips to Remus' and running his long elegant fingers through the other mans hair.
"I'm sure there will be many more to come."
*
Remus still had a corner of that wrapping paper - call it nostalgic, call it pathetic, call it being in love. Sometimes, times when he felt particularly lonely, or sad, he'd take out the small piece of paper, smooth it out between his fingers and try to remember the warmth of that moment; the warmth of waking, his limbs entwined with Sirius' and the warm breath of his lovers against his neck. Other times he didn't want to remember- he didn't want to have to think back to how perfect and untainted those moments had been.
But most times, he just tried to pretend that there would be other times like that day. That he wouldn't be without Sirius forever.
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"Morning," Sirius smirked, "remind me, how did we get here and why aren't we in bed?" Remus felt a smile of his own creeping across his cheeks.
"I think I might just need reminding of the exact same thing,"
"I seem to remember it being possibly one of the best nights of my life," Sirius winked before pressing his lips to Remus' and running his long elegant fingers through the other mans hair.
"I'm sure there will be many more to come."
*
Remus still had a corner of that wrapping paper - call it nostalgic, call it pathetic, call it being in love. Sometimes, times when he felt particularly lonely, or sad, he'd take out the small piece of paper, smooth it out between his fingers and try to remember the warmth of that moment; the warmth of waking, his limbs entwined with Sirius' and the warm breath of his lovers against his neck. Other times he didn't want to remember- he didn't want to have to think back to how perfect and untainted those moments had been.
But most times, he just tried to pretend that there would be other times like that day. That he wouldn't be without Sirius forever.
Posted via m.livejournal.com.