The sun outside the window was merciless, pouring into the room like it had a personal vendetta against you. Your shirt clung to your skin, your hair stuck to the back of your neck, and even blinking felt like too much effort. You flopped back onto the couch with a groan.

“Remus, I’m melting. I’m going to turn into a puddle right here. Tell my friends and family I loved them.”

From the armchair across the room, Remus chuckled quietly over the book in his lap. “Dramatic much?”

You cracked one eye open to glare at him. “Easy for you to say—you look like you’re living in a mild spring breeze while I’m over here perishing.”

He set his book aside and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Alright, puddle-in-the-making, what can I do to save you?”

“You can… turn off the sun.”

Remus smirked. “Right, I’ll get right on that.” Then he stood, wandered into the kitchen, and came back a minute later with two tall glasses of cold lemonade, condensation running down the sides. He set one in your hand before kneeling beside the couch.

“You’re lucky I love you enough to risk the heat myself,” he teased, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from your face.

You sipped the lemonade, eyes fluttering shut at the chill. “You’re my hero.”

“Mm,” he murmured with a grin, leaning down to press a quick, cool kiss to your cheek. “I’ll remember that the next time you call me overdramatic for bringing ice cubes to bed.”

You swatted at him weakly. “If this heat keeps up, I will marry whoever invented ice.”

“Not if I get there first,” Remus shot back, settling beside you with his own drink, and for a moment, the suffocating heat didn’t seem quite so bad.