Fic: I remembered you with my soul clenched (Day 1)
Title: I remembered you with my soul clenched
Author: Ashley / snow_blossoms
Pairing: A fleeting glimpse of R/S
Rating: PG
Word Count: 268
Prompt: Day 1 at mwpp_mischief
Warnings: Over abundance of angst!
Summary: Remus' first winter on his own.
Author's Note: Title from Clenched Soul by Pablo Neruda. Thanks to huntingsnarks for the beta!
There are days, now, when Remus doesn't know if the sun is coming up
or going down. Like a broken compass, he can't figure out which way is
east or west or up or down or inside out. He's lost.
And he works all day and sleeps all night or works all night and sleeps
all day. Sometimes both, somehow. And in between, he walks, with
great care, in the footsteps of strangers left behind in the snow. He is
melancholy and thinks about the men and women who walked this path
before him. The ones who will come after. He turns around and the
sun's already starting to wash his prints away. He's already begun to
leave no trace.
There are holes in the toes of his boots and his socks are perpetually
wet now. When he pulls them off at the end of the day, the socks leave
his feet stained blue. He hangs them over his radiator and wonders how
he came to this place, in all places in all the history of the world. Here.
Alone.
He'd been a part of something once. A part of something whole. With a
warm bed and wet kisses and "we" and "ours" and "us" and "together"
and "home" and "love, forever and ever, amen."
He tries not to cry. Every minute of every day he thinks, very seriously,
about not crying. And he doesn't. Not when it counts, certainly. At least
not much.
Some days he wakes up and marvels that his life has a funny way of
going on.
Some days he wakes up and wishes he hadn't.
Some days he wakes up and gets dressed and pretends his life was
always this way.
Survival, he decides, is a bitter bitter thing.
Author: Ashley / snow_blossoms
Pairing: A fleeting glimpse of R/S
Rating: PG
Word Count: 268
Prompt: Day 1 at mwpp_mischief
Warnings: Over abundance of angst!
Summary: Remus' first winter on his own.
Author's Note: Title from Clenched Soul by Pablo Neruda. Thanks to huntingsnarks for the beta!
There are days, now, when Remus doesn't know if the sun is coming up
or going down. Like a broken compass, he can't figure out which way is
east or west or up or down or inside out. He's lost.
And he works all day and sleeps all night or works all night and sleeps
all day. Sometimes both, somehow. And in between, he walks, with
great care, in the footsteps of strangers left behind in the snow. He is
melancholy and thinks about the men and women who walked this path
before him. The ones who will come after. He turns around and the
sun's already starting to wash his prints away. He's already begun to
leave no trace.
There are holes in the toes of his boots and his socks are perpetually
wet now. When he pulls them off at the end of the day, the socks leave
his feet stained blue. He hangs them over his radiator and wonders how
he came to this place, in all places in all the history of the world. Here.
Alone.
He'd been a part of something once. A part of something whole. With a
warm bed and wet kisses and "we" and "ours" and "us" and "together"
and "home" and "love, forever and ever, amen."
He tries not to cry. Every minute of every day he thinks, very seriously,
about not crying. And he doesn't. Not when it counts, certainly. At least
not much.
Some days he wakes up and marvels that his life has a funny way of
going on.
Some days he wakes up and wishes he hadn't.
Some days he wakes up and gets dressed and pretends his life was
always this way.
Survival, he decides, is a bitter bitter thing.