a/n: I got this review from embersandenvelopes I think it was, saying that I could have been more descriptive. And then I sat down to write the new chapter of The Woes of Sirius Black, and this came out! And I can't use this for anything!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Notes: Beta read by the lovely Tasha-kins.


Sirius always sleeps with closed bed hangings. Remus on the other hand always has them open. He says that he doesn't like how dark it gets when they are pulled closed, but Sirius knows that Remus wants to see the moon – as a security. Either that or he is masochistic.

Sirius doesn't really like the darkness he lies in. He only bothers to pull the thick red hangings together with a decisive tug each night to be able to peek out of his bed unseen. He has edged close to the narrow slit between two pieces of fabric, peering out into the moonlit room.

Remus lies with his face towards Sirius, on his stomach, his right hand balled into a tight fist pressed against his chest, the covers bunching around his hips.

The room appears blue in this light of the night, the usually vibrant Gryffindor red turning into a dull brown.

Sirius has lain this way for some time now. He's seen Remus flopping tiredly onto the bed, casting a despairing glance at the growing moon, his head bouncing a little on the pillow as he lay down carelessly, his eyes turning glossy with sleep and slowly closing, the amber glow in them a striking ray of colour before they succumb to sleep. He's seen all the worries that trouble Remus while he's awake slide away. At day those heavy thoughts will be back, seemingly etched onto the pale, slightly freckled parchment of Remus' face as if it would take a crowbar to wrench them away. But here, in the secluded land of sleep, where anything can be possible, plausible, or even true, here they trickle away noislessly from the features of his love.

Sirius' body is aching from the position. The darkness is hovering over him, an ominous space filled with his own insecurity. The little slit between the two hangings is his window to the outer world. For him to observe, but never interact through.

The blue light envelopes Remus' body, making his bare upper body stand out clearly against the morose brown all around him. His hair and face looks so innocent and open, but the knuckles of his fist are white, and the muscles of his arm are flexing to keep it tight against his chest even in his sleep.

Sirius is stricken by how very fragile it really is. How different Remus is in this light. He wants to hold Remus, feel the warm crook of his neck against his lips, the way Remus' hair would smell and how it would feel against his skin.

Remus looks lost to him, the moonlight embracing him menacingly, like it could sweep away with him at any moment. Sirius wants to preserve him, to keep Remus in this place in time forever, because he knows it is true. The moolight will take Remus away.

The light is mocking him.

It holds a grip on Remus, it possesses him in a way that Sirius can never possess him.

The light calls out to him. Urges him on. 'Come out here' it says. 'Come out of the Dark'.

And Sirius does.

This turned out kinda' mellow didn't it?