His toes grow cold like his soul, which once curled up and died, only to be stoked back to life like a weary flame by the dry laugh of a best friend, long lost.
His life, see, it ebbs and flows. The flame goes out.
Your words are stunning. I think you've exactly captured Remus of the later books.
Sirius used to touch his scars and call him beautiful. He was a jubilant liar. He’d laugh and laugh.
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His life, see, it ebbs and flows. The flame goes out.
Your words are stunning. I think you've exactly captured Remus of the later books.
Sirius used to touch his scars and call him beautiful. He was a jubilant liar. He’d laugh and laugh.