lunation (lunation) wrote,
lunation
lunation

drabbles: "we are the hollow men" [remus&/tonks, present]


There wasn't much to be said, and she looked at him with a blank expression that, sadly, registered no astonishment when he simply ceased his speech and, in placing his long-fingered hands over his already tear-glazed face, began to weep anew.

She curled her hands around his shoulders and leaned into him, and yet it worsened his feelings of guilt and resentment -  hatred both for himself and all manner of people.Tonks not included, necessarily. It was just that, when she attempted to comfort in these raw moments, it only increased the hollowed-out sensation that would not leave him. Worst of all, he worried she was aware of this.

-

She wakes most days and smells it - the smoke rising in the distance. Same dread, different day, she figures, and can only hope she sees the thin ribbons of black wafting skyward and not the horrible green skull and serpent that now, more than ever, rises over the debris of ruined homes.

Today, as she crawls out from under the cold sheets and mechanically slips her small feet into house slippers, the stale burning scent is stronger than ever.

She pulls on equally chilly jeans and turns to regard the clock impassively, her eyes wandering to the bare back of her still unconscious bedmate as she tugs on the zipper. He slept too often now, and she guiltily wondered if it was some not so elaborate ploy to avoid her.

-

"What do you want from me?" she says without warning, stirring on the couch beside him where she had previously been curled up beneath the tatty blanket they had dragged from the upstairs. Against him, she is small and warm and feels almost weightless, but her words are heavy, her voice thick despite the clarity of her inquiry.

He shuffles his Daily Prophet uselessly, feeling too male, too old to really discuss whatever unpleasant conversation the comment undoubtedly initiated.
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

  • 0 comments