( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞-𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊 ) — loving me is death sentence
No words needed to be spoken.
Showing up on his doorstep with tears threatening to fall from her engaging eyes was enough. He scooped her into his big arms at once, running a comforting hand through the silky locks of her chestnut hair.
''It's okay,'' he soothed, his voice music to her ears. ''You're okay now.''
''I knew him, Remus,'' she coughed through her sobs. ''Cedric Diggory. I knew him, and now he's dead. Seventeen years old, and dead.''
''You don't have to talk about it right now. Sirius just left, he told me everything.''
He led her through into his living room, guiding her into a squashy armchair. It was a burgundy velvet, which lingered with the scent of Remus' musky cologne.
Evangeline stayed completely still as he exited the room, heading for the bathroom (she presumed) judging by the following rush of running water. The June air was sticky and bothersome, doing no favours for her drenched outfit — the unfortunate aftermath of running around Hogwarts and then Apparating whilst crying.
Remus returned after a few minutes, not surprised to see his friend hadn't moved so much as a muscle. The sight of her flushed cheeks and glossy irises tugged at the utmost depths of his heartstrings.
''I've run a bath for you,'' he told her gently. ''I figured you'd want to relax, and have a change of clothes.''
The brunette pure-blood said nothing, nodding thankfully and trailing upstairs. She had never been anywhere in the house apart from the ground floor; there were four extra rooms. A pleasantly welcoming library, clean bathroom, modest bedroom, and a double-door at the end of the hall that was shut with gold initials reading ❛H & L❜.
Her interest was momentarily piqued, but exploring somebody's home uninvited was just plain rude. Besides, judging by the shut and slightly ajar doors, the cottage valued its privacy.
Evangeline made a beeline for the bathroom instead, as she was expected to. There was nothing more she wanted than to get rid of the suffocating garments she had been wearing since the morning of the third and final Triwizard Tournament task — look at how that turned out.
The sink was made up of brass accents and a circular ceramic basin, complete with a soap figure in the shape of a sphinx. There was also a toilet on which rested a few untouched candles, opposite a spotless towel rack. The bath was bursting with pastel bubbles, which gave off a pleasant scent, among a plethora of pink rose petals.
''I like the flowers,'' she called to Remus, who was pottering about in the library.
He popped his head around the door, figuring she was still decent. ''They were meant to be your birthday present,'' he explained, abashed. ''They melt in hot water, and the label said they're really good for the skin.''
She had in fact mentioned she liked those sorts of things — bath accessories and cosmetics, perfect for pampering. He had remembered.
''Thank you.''
He nodded, sending her a small smile and returning to whatever he had been doing beforehand.
Evangeline heaved a sigh, attempting to silence the millions of thoughts that had scattered her mind. She wasn't sure what was coming, what with the Dark Lord's return, but she knew she was going to find out sooner or later.
One thing was for sure — she may have been scared out of her wits, but she was going to fight.
The Rosier girl peeled off her skirt, the rest of her garments following soon after. It was like a hug from an angel as she lowered herself into the tub, eagerly welcoming the calming warmth. The ends of her hair were now dampened, and foam collected around her neck, but that was irrelevant to the sought-after solace for her aching muscles.
She didn't know how long it had been — an hour, maybe longer, when a knock on the door sounded. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes, which thankfully weren't blinded by the mellow ceiling light.
''Eve,'' Remus probed. ''Are you alright in there?''
''Fine,'' she replied, her voice merely above a whisper. When the rattle of footsteps walking away never came, she spoke again. ''Can you come in? I do not want to be alone right now.''
She instantly regretted her words when no answer came; perhaps she had crossed a line. But then there was a shuffle, and the door slowly creaked open.
He felt his breath hitch at she sight, before a delicate blush brushed his cheeks. There she was, inches away from him, naked. Granted, pearly froth covered her most intimate areas, but the sun-kissed skin of her arms, legs, and torso were on full display; little was left to the imagination.
Evangeline couldn't bring herself to care about the impropriety of the situation. The fact that no one had seen her so revealed before, and no one other than her husband should be able to see her like this, seemed so insignificant now.
He seated himself on the cool floor beside her. Despite the elevation of the bathtub, given his tall stature they were eye-level.
She reached out a soapy hand to him, which he gladly accepted. A couple drops of water were nothing compared to what he would do for her — Hell, he would swim the darkest waters if it meant she was safe and sound.
''Everything is going to change now, is it not?''
''Yes,'' he regretted to confirm her worries. ''Yes, it will.''
''Sirius mentioned what it was like last time,'' she sniffed. ''All the disappearances, all the chaos, all the worry. You think you know somebody, and then it turns out that they would turn you in to the highest bidder.''
''Exactly like that. His first reign of terror was something I never thought I'd live through, and now that it's starting again . . . I—I'm not sure I can do it again.''
''This time, you have something that you did not have before. Me.''
He chuckled, stroking small circles on the soft skin of her palm. ''And for that, I'm grateful. But you need to put your safety first, Eve. Don't worry about me.''
''I do worry about you,'' she admitted. ''As for my safety, I am the most at ease when I am with you, Remus. Do you not feel the same?''
''Of course I do. All this time that we have spent together has been the best year of my life in a long time . . . to tell you the truth, I'm finally starting to feel like myself again.''
Her smile was like a sudden beam of sunlight at his confession, illuminating the darkest corners of the world. It was the kind of smile that would be cruel not to kiss.
They found each other leaning in little by little. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to stop, pleading for her to hesitate, yet neither of them did.
The first kiss.
An explosive fire was alighted in their bones, as if their souls had finally returned to the water they were weaved from. It was like every part of them that came from a dead star was alive again, popping with the brightest supernova hues.
That was until he jumped back, as if her touch had scaled him with a hot iron.
Remus regarded Evangeline with a sorrowful expression, as if he had committed a cardinal sin against her pure being.
''We can't,'' he muttered under his breath, splintering her heart. ''I'm sorry.''
''Why not?'' She didn't understand. ''Why can we not, Remus?''
The temperature in the room dropped.
His voice turned cold, blistering her with its callous chill. ''I'm not what you deserve, Evangeline. You deserve someone younger, someone richer, someone who doesn't have the ability to kill you once a month! I was your teacher, for Merlin's sake!''
''Was, as in past tense, Remus,'' she gritted. ''I do not want someone younger, someone richer, or someone who is not a werewolf. I want you.''
''I want you too. You are everything I have ever wanted, but you are also everything I know I can't ever have.''
''So then say yes to me. You owe it to yourself to be happy — take the risk!''
''You don't understand.''
''Oh, I very much do. You and both know I do. I understand that you are much older than me. I understand that you are unable to hold down a job. I understand that you are terrified of hurting me. I understand it all.''
''Then you can understand why I'm saying no. I am sixteen years your senior — I'm old enough to be your father! And what type of man would I be if I could not even provide for my partner, let alone a family? Then again, I'm not a man, as you've come to learn. I'm a monster.''
''Remus . . . look at me.''
But he didn't. He turned on her, standing and facing the wall, his hand that was just holding hers on the door handle.
''You told me that you would not be able to live with yourself if you had hurt me,'' she reminded him. He had walked into her heart like he had belonged there, took down her walls, and then shattered her from the inside. ''Now you have. Just not in the way you expected to.''
''Loving me is a death sentence, Evangeline.''
That was enough to make the prettiest soul he had ever seen walk away from him.