moony was situated on the furthest table in the library as though it was a military outpost, battered books barricading him in.

somehow, he’d managed to coerce you into seating yourself opposite him under the guise of “studying.” which, fine, you were attempting to “lock the fuck in”.

the fact that you were so impossibly distracted was entirely lupin’s shortcoming. he was doing that thing he did, where he demonstrated monkish devotion to his assignment whilst being absolutely drool-worthy—

“your book is upside down,” he uttered, cutting through your fantasising. he’d been entirely silent for the first twenty minutes, all industrious scratching of his quill and the occasional muttered swear at an ink blot. but now he spoke, and that was to highlight your severe lack of focus.

remus’ mouth curved into a low-key smile.

he slouched back in his chair, back popping as his arms flexed above his head. his legs stretched out beneath the table until—naturally—they collided with yours, ankles tangling together. remus didn’t apologise, nor did he retract. he simply gazed at you, half-lidded and downright infuriating.

“you need to concentrate,” he mused leniently, placid. and yet. his mouth was half-guilty for sending your attention veering away from education.

it was easy for him to say, really—for he was at ease in the academics environment, and wasn’t being tantalised. his light-brown hair was tousled over his forehead, tie hanging loose.