Heaven

She smells like heaven.

It's the first thing he ponders, that sleepy Saturday morning, as he wakes to a tangle of bedsheets. He lets his eyes trace the naked curve of her back, up to the gentle slope of her shoulder and waves of blue cascading over her beautiful arm.

He leans closer, then, and breathes in her scent, of flowery quiet, with a faint whiff of fresh young beauty. Looking down at himself, scars crossing his rough hands, his arms, his chest, he wonders why she chooses him, every night. He wonders why she lets an ageing monster of a man love her.

He moves closer to her, gently nudging her soft skin with his head, and she groans about something or rather. He watches as she gracefully turns in sleep, thinking about her. Them. Their future together, as a couple bestowed with marriage.

Then Tonks rolls a little too far, falling of the bed with a loud thump and a series of angry curses. Remus Lupin smiles.

If she smells like heaven, it must be a beautiful place.

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A/N: Thankfully, I am not dead. Just wrapped in a net of horrible writer's block. I know, I know, it's been perhaps a month with no update on Chocoholic. And I'm sorry! Really! Hopefully, I shall have something up before HBP comes out. No promises, though. No promises. (backs away from scary reviewers)

Still, I hope this cookie satisfied your hunger. ;-)