Ten years.

It had been ten years of agonising loneliness that Remus had to endure. After Lily and James had been killed, after Peter had been killed, after Sirius had been locked away.

His only consolation was meeting you. He was 32, well past his prime. Remus had all but given up on his love life, after all, his only successful relationship had been Sirius but even that crumbled like chalk in his hands- he’d held on too tight and ended up crushing it.

It’s like you were the cure. You’d kissed his scars when he was down, had held him when he needed it. Every part of Remus ached for affection, after ten years of complete isolation, you’d been the Angel he had prayed for.

Remus and you had moved in pretty soon- after all, he was living in poverty, homeless, it was a natural fit. Living together had its ups and downs— and many squabbles over who should make dinner or who should dust the countertops. Either way, it was bliss. Remus had found his person.

Like a dog, Remus had his head in your stomach, nuzzling and sighing with blissful content as he cuddled into you. This was all he needed- your hands in his hair, your warmth against his skin, the sound of his records quiet in the background. The whole scene was peace- just want the werewolf had needed after so many hours sat alone with his thoughts.

His head lifted, just to place a tender kiss to your heart, before plopping back down into your stomach. “Thank you” he sighed out, giving you a gentle squeeze.