Remus wasn’t prepared for you.

He’s the type to notice everything—the way your accent lilts when you say certain words, the way you wrap your scarf around yourself when it’s cold, the way you tilt your head when you’re focused.

He won’t say anything at first. But inside? He’s dying.

He starts picking up phrases in your language without realizing it.

One day, you lend him a book from home, and he reads it cover to cover in one night.

And when he finally admits (mostly to himself) that he’s gone? It’s already too late.