Is There Really No Escape from Time?

Remus sighed as he heard the front door of his flat open and close. Gently, he noted,

footsteps tiptoed past the couch upon which he was resting, pretending to be asleep. He didn't

bother to open his eyes. Another row was hardly worth it. He lay there for a small while, his mind

empty with exhaustion and depression. He heard footsteps approaching the couch again, and

screwed his eyes shut. Remus felt a blanket being rested upon his bare back, softly being pulled up

around his neck. Warmth engulfed him, warmth that he was used to a human providing. A fist-sized lump situated in the middle of his throat, and refused to budge. When he heard the bedroom door close, he flipped over onto his back, staring at the water-damaged ceiling.

Remus had been sleeping on this couch, staring at this ceiling a lot as of late. The large

lumps and springs that pushed through the surface hardly bothered him anymore. Sort of. He

could fix these small grievances, of course. But then, he had realized, Sirius would notice his

discomfort and insist he moved back into the bedroom. He was always the gentleman. But Remus

couldn't bear sharing a bed with him. He wouldn't. He closed his eyes and tried to avoid thinking

about the worry and suspicion that seemed to control his life these days. He tried to forget about

the distrust that radiated from Sirius every time those gray eyes found Remus amber ones.

With a deafening creak of the ancient couch, Remus turned on his face, staring at the

upholstery and hoping his sobs weren't as loud as he knew they were. He choked on every breath

and every frustrated, hurt, and brokenhearted thought.

He knew what Sirius suspected. Everybody who knew the pair of them did. Remus

punched the couch furiously at the thought of it. Being a "dark creature" automatically made him

suspect for spying. Personality didn't seem to be worth consideration. Neither did friendship or

personal history. Remus thought to point this out would be fruitless, so he kept his mouth shut.

He just hoped that Sirius, his Padfoot, would realize this. And soon.

Remus drew a deep breath, feeling his lungs shake with exhaustion as he bit back another

sob. He knew that, by this point, Sirius could hear him crying. Remus himself could hear anxious

footsteps pacing the bedroom floor, occasionally stopping in front of the door before starting up

again. But Remus was also quite confident that Sirius wouldn't come out of his safe hiding place.

He never had before. At this realization, Remus began to calm like a child who realizes his wails

are going apparently unnoticed. Sniffling miserably, he sat up. For a few brief moments, he held

his aging face in his hands, wiping his amber eyes that were still leaking annoyingly.

He stood and approached the bedroom, clearing his throat and knocking gently at the

door. There was no reply. Remus heaved a shuddering sigh and shifted his weight from foot to

foot.

"Pa...Sirius, I was just wondering if you'd like some tea. I'm going to make some for

myself and I figured I should ask if you'd like some as well." There was a pause, a silence. Remus

felt the intruding lump return to his throat, but this time he swallowed it down. "No? Alright then,

sleep well." He walked away from the door.

The kitchen stood across the flat, cold and dark in its neglect. The tiles were cold on Remus' bare feet, and he shivered when his sensitive toes touched them. The small room was

immaculate and dusty. It was rarely used, for Sirius was never home for any meal, and Remus

rarely ate. Everything stood accusingly in its exactly proper place, as if it were mocking the man's

misfortunes. He felt like screaming.

He took the kettle off of the shelf it resided upon, and filled it with water before placing it

somewhat unceremoniously on the stove. He had always preferred tea the Muggle way, much to

his friends' amusement. Friends. The word rang longingly about his head. Who did he have left

now, even when they all lived in the same city?

He stood silently in the kitchen as the kettle steamed and shrieked like a siren. He dumped

some loose tea leaves into the bottom of his teacup, pouring the boiling water over them. They

swirled around and around, and he watched them in their display of innocently caused chaos. He

jumped as he heard a hoarse voice from behind him.

"Did you make enough for two?" Remus gazed at the handsome young man in front of

him, heartstrings tugging as he realized how much older the man looked than the boy who had

graduated just a few short months ago.

"I always do," Remus answered softly. He put some tea leaves, water, and milk into a new

teacup, and handed it to Sirius. Their hands touched momentarily, and he flinched as though

struck. Sirius regarded him sadly and looked into his beverage. They silently walked onto the

porch of their little flat, drinking their steaming tea while surrounded by the crisp, early-morning

air. They stayed there, standing silent beside one another, until they could see the orange of the

sun on the horizon.

It was indeed a new dawn.