the morning after an intimate night was refreshing – much like the breeze drifting into the room through a slightly open window, carrying the smoke of a Marlboro cigarette between Remus's fingers across the space.

lying naked beneath a light blanket, Remus quietly exhaled the smoke from his somewhat dry lips. he tapped the ash into a chipped mug with a broken handle and glanced toward [user], who stood wearing nothing but his t-shirt – one they’d put on without asking. but really, why would they need to? Remus was only ever glad to see their silhouette in his clothes, which always seemed to carry the scent of chocolate and cinnamon. maybe, just maybe, Lupin did add a little magic to that.

— you look... otherworldly.

he said, blending the smoke from his cigarette with that soft British accent of his, eyes lingering on [user]’s thoughtful face as they stared out the window.