𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

baking blues- remus

You didn't give much thought to your movements, the recipe familiar, the process one your hands could recreate without a second of doubt and that's precisely what you did. Bag and shoes abandoned, your outside clothes traded for Remus' jumper and sweatpants as you moved about the kitchen in silence, steps soundless as well thanks to the pair of knitted socks you'd stolen from his closet. The first batch of brownies was already cooling on the rack, the second close to being scooped onto the battered baking tray but you were searching for those little marshmallows Remus hid for your special hot chocolate.

Remus knew what to expect as soon as he stilled in the hallway, keys lost somewhere in the messenger bag he carried around for all his things, fingers feeling desperate as they sought out the silly metal knot that always hid from him. He could smell the chocolate from the door, could hear the sounds of cupboards opening and closing, cups being moved, the rustle of plastic- you were baking, it was hardly an unusual occurrence, but there was no music, no humming, no sporadic moving around between different sections, something was wrong.

He found you right where he knew he would, leaning over the counter to place a marshmallow into the center of each little square you'd marked in the trayed brownie batter, you paused only when you caught sight of him leaning against the doorframe, smiling softly, carefully at you as your eyes locked.

"Hi dove," he breathed and your lips twitched as if trying to smile and failing, he felt his heart clench, the telling scene making it clear that you didn't want to talk about it, you never really did the day of, much more willing to explain your heart the day after, but he knew you needed some loving and he was ever willing to give it to you.

He approached you slowly as if you'd be spooked if he didn't, and placed a gentle, lingering kiss onto the side of your head, one hand brushing up and down your arm, the other reaching over to turn on the kettle, if the brownies were ready then there was indeed a need for tea. You leaned back into him, unwillingly, habitually, an action far out of your control. Still, he welcomed it, not commenting on the soft tremor of your fingers as they closed the bag of marshmallows, looking over your next batch with a satisfied sigh.

"I'm here, hmm," Remus reminded you, squeezing your arm, another kiss very generously placed on your cheek this time, letting you know it's okay to move into him even more, give in a little more and you did. You allowed him to place the tray into the oven all while keeping you against him and you remained there as he made your tea, soft coos surrounding you, gentle hands, delicate kisses, it was enough to entrance you and it was a welcome feeling, a contrast to how you'd been feeling all day because he really could take away all the bad emotions you'd bundled up, he was love, period. "I'm here."