Push and Pull (Sirius Black X Reader)

Remus has been gone for two weeks now.

He came back to the cottage the first Saturday he was off and we went on a walk down to the little overgrown pond on the edge of the woods. He skipped stones across the murky water as I hung back, dodging the shadows that danced along the forest floor to keep warm by the rays of the sun.

After the sun finally set and the day began to cool down, he wound his arm around mine and led me back to the cottage, where he cooked some pasta and roasted some vegetables. We picked over the food for a while, and then I went and got ready for bed—showering and brushing my teeth and stuff.

I nestled under the pilling duvet in the bedroom and felt my eyelids growing heavy, and Remus took his turn in the bathroom. Right as I almost drifted to sleep, the bathroom door opened and flooded the bedroom with light.

He asked, "Are you too tired?"

I asked, "For what?" Even though I knew what he meant.

He slinked down beneath the covers and dragged my pajamas down my legs, and then he buried his face between my thighs. He stayed there until I finally stilled and slumped down into the pillows, heart pounding, slickness spread all along the inside my thighs and on his lips. He wiped his mouth and kissed me deeply, and I pretended I couldn't taste myself in his mouth.

Then, he slipped out of his clothes and spread my legs open, filling me deeply as he groaned into my mouth.

Once he finished and I heard his breathing go deep and steady, I carefully slipped out of the bed and cleaned myself up, finding my pajamas discarded near the foot of the bed. I pulled them back on and eased myself under the covers, nestling into Remus' side. Each of his breaths sent my baby hairs swaying, tickling my forehead.

I couldn't sleep.

So, I stared up at the ceiling and thought about sleeping.

The next day, he made breakfast and we talked about his job, and then he had to go back to the castle.

I was alone again.

Since he's been gone, I've just been going to work and sleeping. That's all I really can do. I don't cook much, so I don't eat much. Remus commented that my cheeks looked slimmer when he saw me last and made sure he stocked the fridge with groceries, but I'm so exhausted, I can't imagine standing in front of the stove to cook. Plus, I don't have much of an appetite. I mainly just eat granola with milk and whatever is ready to eat in the fridge.

I think I know that this isn't normal. That people don't all feel this way.

That I never used to feel this way.

But there's not much I can do to change it.

I'm getting restless in this stuffy old cottage. I feel like a prisoner. I think if I left, it might help. But I don't have the money or the energy to arrange anything else. So I just sit here and waste away.

Work is boring and monotonous. Desk work and paperwork and petty conflicts with other ministry workers. People don't invite me out after work anymore, not when they all go for drinks at the pub down the street. I don't mind. Drinking makes me sadder.

I think if I was any sadder, then I would...

Well, anyway, I haven't really seen anyone lately. Not friends or anything.

It's funny though.

Even though I have no friends other than Remus, I haven't been feeling quite so lonely. When I want to talk, I just talk to myself or I sing or I just stand in front of the mirror and look into my eyes just to remind myself what I look like.

It hasn't been too bad.

And, now that Remus has been gone and I've adjusted to life without him, I think I might be ready to make some new friends. I don't want to go drinking and I certainly can't have anyone see the cottage where I live, but maybe someone would want to do something else with me.

I don't know. I don't know what people like to do.

There's a girl at the office, Gracie, and she's really nice. I think I might ask her to get dinner with me. Remus thinks it's a good idea.

I do too.