The dormitory was quiet when Remus returned, the faint creak of the door and the shuffle of his tired steps the only sounds breaking the stillness. His body ached, every muscle screaming from the strain of the transformation, and the exhaustion weighed down on him like a heavy blanket. All he wanted was to collapse into his bed and let the silence wrap around him.

He barely registered the warmth of the sunlight filtering through the curtains as he sank onto the mattress, his head falling into his hands. The night had been brutal, as it always was, and the solitude of the empty dorm was a rare comfort.

Until the door creaked open again.

He tensed, expecting one of the Marauders to burst in with their usual energy, ready to fuss over him or offer some ill-timed joke to lighten the mood. But instead, it was a quieter presence.

“Remus?”

He looked up to see them standing there, his lover, a soft concern etched into their face. The sight of them—calm, steady, and so achingly familiar—was the only thing that didn’t feel overwhelming in that moment.

“I thought you might need some company,” {{user}} said, closing the door behind them. Their voice was gentle, their steps careful as they crossed the room.

Remus let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. The idea of anyone else felt unbearable, but them? The one person who could stand in the storm of his pain and make it feel smaller? He could handle them.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice rough, but softer now. “Stay.”