Remus sat on the cold floor of what used to be a home, knees drawn up, hands loose in his lap. At first his fingers stayed open, trembling faintly. Then they curled in, nails cutting into his palms until the skin split.
He thought of them, over and over— James, Lily, Sirius. —but they never came. Only the hollow sound of the wind through cracked glass. Parchment littered the floor, words half-written then abandoned. There was no one left to send them to.
Nothing mattered anymore. Not the walls, grey and bruised with shadow, the silence pressing into his chest, even the ache in his ribs when he remembered how to breathe.
He tried to see today, to keep his eyes open. If I can just see today. But everything he touched slipped away.
Someway. Somehow. The words repeated like a prayer.
The silk that had once softened the world, laughter, warmth, belonging; was gone. He could not name what he felt now, only that he wanted someone to wake him, to put it all back.
Why was it them? Why not him? His tears came anyway, because he could not bury them with the rest.
James. Lily. Sirius.
They had been his friends. He had held their faces in his hands, believed they would walk through anything together. But here he was, eyes closed, walking into the coffee shop he always goes to on weekends.
Nothing left in him to care where it led.
He thought of them once more, swallowed everything that remained— the guilt, the anger, the love —until it hollowed him clean through. When they found him, they would understand.
Nothing mattered anymore, nothing at all....
"Table for one?"
A soft voice dragged him out of his thoughts.
He blinked, the bell above the door still echoing faintly behind him, the warm smell of coffee settling heavy in his chest. He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped just inside, fingers still curled around the edge of his sleeve, staring at the floor as though it had an answer written there.
The barista, with kind eyes and a quiet sort of patience, waited, pen already poised over the little notepad in hand.
Remus opened his mouth, then closed it again, swallowing the words he didn’t mean to say.
He managed a small nod instead, voice low.
"Table for one."