TWENTYSIX

41.8K 1.7K 1.9K
                                    


R E V E A L
△▽△▽△

It was when the sun outside began to set, casting warm colors through the blinds and onto the carpeted floor, that Remus finally shifted next to her. They had been positioned the same way on the bed amongst the linen sheets for quite some time, which caused a tranquil and comfortable silence to fall over them. His head was on Freya's shoulder, her flaxen hair that had been taken down from its usual hair tie caressed across his bare chest.

"They'll be back soon," Remus murmured, not quite sure if it was their friends or the Potters that would return first, but he was no doubt correct. Mrs. Potter would surely not allow herself to be out very late after dark, even if she was on a date. Her first priority would be to make sure her son, and the rest of the group, returned safely.

Though they both cared deeply for each the absent members of the household, a sense of annoyance followed the statement. If it was up to the pair, they would stay bundled under the layers of quilts until the son rose, rather than set.

The exhale of exasperated breath from her mouth summed up what he too was feeling. Freya sat up nonetheless, the alabaster cotton sheet clung to her body from where her hand firmly wrapped it around her chest. She lazily let her eyes follow Remus as he sat up from the bed in order to grab the mess of clothing that were haphazardly strewn across the floor. Her own olive colored shirt was tossed from his hand and into her arms.

As he turned away to pick up his own clothing, she was met with the numerous pink scars that stuck from the surface of his back. They reminded her own tiny, pink streams that crossed the pale surface of the Earth on their own accord, not bothering to worry whether the surface enjoyed being marked.

A shake of the head separated her from the dark thoughts that threatened to cloud over the still romantic moment. She easily clasped the back of her bra and almost laughed at the memory of the boy struggling with fumbling hands to remove it from her chest.

Remus was clothed much quicker than her, bluntly allowing his eyes to follow her as she slipped her shorts back onto her legs. A loud gasp escaped Freya's smudged lips as she took in her reflection in a mirror that sat on the wooden dresser by the bed. Fingers brushed across the streak of lipstick on the corners of her mouth, then slid through her tangled hair.

With unexperienced hands, Remus attempted to soothe her worries by braiding her hair into a messy up-do. The only problem was that he had absolutely no clue how to braid, and the blonde strands only became more tangled.

Poking her head out the door, just in case, she crept across the hallways with her head down as if to shield herself from the numerous watching portraits, and into the room she and Lily were sharing. The house was rather big, seeing as the Potters were quite wealthy. At least three spare bedrooms were located upstairs.

It was quiet without the others there, aside from the occasional creak of the wood that resulted from the old floorboards.

Freya brushed her blonde locks with the silver hairbrush that was placed on her borrowed wooden dresser. She had left Remus in his attempts to cover up the evidences in the bedroom. On the way back to the room, she stopped in a bathroom to splash her face with cold water at least three times when the arrivals started filing in.

"No James," bellowed Lily's voice. Freya could practically see the events unfolding below without even being present. The redhead was more than likely crossing her arms, green eyes narrowed towards James as he gave her a witty smirk. "Just because you bought me a butterbeer, does not mean that was anything close to a date."

By the time she walked down the stairs, after assuming she would be safe enough to appear during the madness of bickering, Remus was hesitating at the doorway. Maybe walking in at the same time wasn't the best strategy, but at the moment it had seemed as if it would prove very effective.

The argument did not stop when they walked in, nor did either friend look up. In fact, they both stormed from the room, Lily going up the stairs to their bedroom no doubt, and James quick on her tail, their loud voices trailed up the winding staircase.

An audible gasp cut through the fading voices and Freya turned her head so sharply in the direction of Sirius with alarm that an ignited pain spread across her neck.

"You didn't!" Sirius jumped up from the seat he had unnoticeably been sitting in, which almost sent it toppling over onto the floor in a ruckus, but thankfully Peter caught it with confusion.

Remus shook his head with an almost begging nature and hissed, "Correct, Padfoot. We didn't."

The shocked expression turned into one of amusement as he threw his head back with the thousands of loud chuckles that fell from his mouth, hands gripping onto the wooden table for support. Peter seemed to catch on, looking at the two in horror, but slight wonder.

"It practically radiates from you!" He wheezed, stomach aching from the laughs, "Look how red she is! I'll go tell James he needs to wash the sheets!"

With that statement, he fled the room with his usual smirk, speeding past Remus in order to avoid the playful punch shot his way. Peter trailed behind him, but stopped at the door with hesitation to goggle at them as if they were two entirely different people from the pair he had chatted with earlier that morning. With a slight shake of his head, he disappeared from the entrance as well.

Freya sunk down into the chair, having completely forgotten about the burning feeling on her neck. Her face was bright red as she wondered if Sirius would let the discovery spill to their friends. The boy had the exact same thoughts as he pulled the seat next to her out with a scrape, before he too sat down.

"Does it really radiate off me?" She groaned, dramatically letting her head slam not too gently against the tabletop.

"Uh," Remus bit his bruised lip, pondering slightly as he weighed his options but eventually decided to just tell her the truth, "Your shirt is on backwards."

Sure enough, as Freya looked down at the material that covered her chest, the cotton tag could been seen sticking out in front of her. Inside out and backwards.

"I hate myself," she sighed, not entirely meaning it but speaking out of pure humiliation of being caught by her closest friends. She could practically hear the endless teasing that was to follow their discovery.

He furrowed his eyebrows, not even thinking as he blurted out his next words, "Well, I love you."

AUTHORS NOTE
gasp

qotd: does freya love him back?
aotd: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who knows

stain ☾ remus lupinWhere stories live. Discover now