The evening was quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the small sitting room. You sat curled up on the worn-out sofa, a book resting in your lap, but your eyes weren’t on the pages. Instead, they followed Remus as he moved about the room, his cane tapping lightly against the wooden floor with each careful step.

He was trying to act as if nothing was wrong, as if the stiffness in his joints wasn’t bothering him tonight. But you knew better. The way he shifted his weight ever so slightly, the way his fingers gripped the handle of his cane a little tighter than usual—it was all too familiar.

“Remus,” you called softly, setting your book aside.

He paused, glancing over at you with tired but gentle eyes. “Yes, love?”

You patted the space beside you. “Come sit with me. Rest for a bit.”

He hesitated for only a moment before nodding, making his way over and lowering himself onto the sofa with a quiet sigh. You reached for his free hand, lacing your fingers through his.

“You don’t have to push yourself so much,” you murmured, running your thumb along the back of his hand.

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Old habits, I suppose.” His voice was warm, but there was something else beneath it—something heavy.

You leaned against his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “You don’t have to do everything alone, you know. I’m here.”

Remus exhaled, his body relaxing slightly as he squeezed your hand. “I know,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. “And that makes all the difference.”