Paris was beautiful, Remus decided.

He closed his eyes, the soft breeze caressing his face as he leaned slightly over their hotel balcony, breathing the air in deeply, breathing in Paris.

When he opened his eyes the sun was peeking out over the housetops down below. It was only early morning, but people had begun to move about on the streets. The breeze tickled Remus's ears as he watched.

He was allowed the small luxury of not having to know how much time passed before he left the balcony, entering back into the hotel room. They had left the windows open during the night, and the wind was rustling the white bed curtains. The curtains billowed and swayed, and the man lying on the bed was occasionally hidden from view.

Remus leaned against the bed frame, the sunlight pouring in through the windows and warming the back of his neck. He silently watched the man breathe, the way a strand of hair fluttered with every breath. Soon though, the man opened his eyes, and, blinking sleepily, said, "Hello, angel."

Remus laughed. "What?"

The man's eyelids were drooping and he lazily stuck out his arms, inviting Remus back into the bed. "The sun lights up your hair and gives you a halo." he explained, as if this was obvious.

Remus obliged, rolling his eyes a little, and crawled back under the bed sheets. "Sirius, are you still drunk?"

Sirius beamed. "Probably." He replied, and leaned over to give Remus a soft, languid kiss.