Chapter 13

 

There’s a noise, or a draft, or a vibration in the air. I don’t know what, but, suddenly, I’m half awake, and I’m not happy about it. I’d been having the most incredible dream, and I can already feel it dissolving from even my memory. My brain doesn’t seem to be functioning properly yet, but it tells me there was definitely something that woke me, something real.

 

I keep my eyes closed and try to will myself back to sleep, back to the illusions my unconscious mind creates for me. I feel myself starting to drift.

 

Then there’s a thud and a muffled curse from somewhere beyond the foot of my bed.

 

Any hope of a return to slumber is shattered. I’m awake and thinking.

 

I roll over onto my side and suddenly I can smell him. Slightly spicy with a tangy hint of sweat and… I stifle a groan. This is not helping my decision to avoid him until the others are back and can act as a buffer. It’s only been three days and I already feel like I’m losing my mind. I’ve been hiding out in the library, only coming back to the dorm to sleep, and even then I make sure I’m late enough that he’ll already be asleep.

 

I turn over and burry my nose in my pillow, trying to block out the scent that is slowly driving me crazy. Somehow, though, the scent only gets stronger.

 

I breathe in.

 

It’s coming from the pillow, I realize. I turn my head and sniff experimentally. I’m surrounded by the scent. How did I not notice this before?

 

I shift back onto my side and crack one eye open halfway.

 

Why didn’t I close my curtains last night? I wonder, before remembering I’d fallen asleep in the library, and by the time I’d gotten back to the room it had already been early morning and I was practically sleepwalking. I was lucky to make it to my bed, it’s no wonder I forgot to close the drapes. Naturally, my immediate reaction is to wonder what time it is. Must be late, I think, still a little fuzzy. The light’s strange.

 

I’m still peering around with half an eye, trying to figure out what’s wrong, because it’s not just the light, when it hits me so hard I gasp, both eyes opening wide.

 

I’m staring at the window. Mid-morning sunlight is shining through the glass in brilliant yellow-white beams. The frost has already mostly melted from the panes, and there’s an extra sparkle as the light bounces off the snow far below. It looks like a beautiful winter day.

 

This is not right at all.

 

My bed isn’t next to the window. His is.

 

I must have collapsed on his bed this morning when I came in. But I wouldn’t have crawled into a bed that already had someone in it, would I? Even half-asleep I should have known better, when I landed on another body, if not before. And I’d probably remember landing on a body, especially his. So if he didn’t sleep here last night…

 

I roll onto my other side.

 

Sure enough, there’s my bed, looking rumpled and slept in. Now the question is, was he already there when I came up from the library? Or did he come up even later than I did, and decide to sleep there upon finding his own bed occupied? And where is he now?

 

The first two questions I cannot answer, and I’m not sure I want to, but the answer to the third is clear, as the sound of running water can be heard coming from the bathroom.

 

He’s in the shower, I realize, even as the noise of the shower cuts off. Images dance in my head as my body starts to heat up and then the door opens and my brain shuts down.

 

He hasn’t dressed yet, just wound a towel around his waist. Droplets of water glide over his shoulders and down his chest from his still-wet hair.

 

He turns slightly to close the door quietly behind him, making sure it doesn’t slam. The muscles of his back ripple slightly under tan skin as he moves, and I snap my eyes shut once more as he turns back to the room.

 

I’m asleep. I’m asleep. I’m asleep, I think frantically as his soft footsteps cross the room. I try to slow my breathing, but even with my eyes closed I can see him standing there in nothing but a towel, skin flushed and dripping wet from his shower, and my heart is racing so wildly I half-fear it’s going to jump out of my chest.

 

The snick of a lock and the rustling sounds of cloth prompt me to peek through my lashes.

 

He’s shed the towel now, but is already wearing a pair of trousers. He’s in the process of threading a belt through the loops. Finished, he buckles it then pulls a shirt from his open trunk. He slides his arms into the sleeves and that delicious skin vanishes beneath the crisp fabric.

 

I stifle a moan at the loss.

 

He reaches back into the trunk without buttoning his shirt and pulls out a tie. He slings it around his neck, but a moment later it’s back in the trunk – he’s obviously just remembered he doesn’t have to wear it between terms – and the trunk is closed and locked and he’s turning towards his bed, and me, and I close my eyes again, forcing myself to relax and not squeeze them shut.

 

His bare feet pad closer, and then his shadow falls across me, and he’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body, and I can smell that familiar spicy fragrance that is so purely him mixed in with the light clean scent of his soap, and it’s all a warm smell, because he’s right in front of me, and it’s not just coming from the sheets he’s slept in or the clothes he’s worn, it’s coming from him. My heart is beating so loudly I’m sure he can hear it and know I’m awake, but if he knows, he says nothing.

 

I barely manage to keep my eyes closed as his breath washes over my face and I feel a shiver run through my entire body.

 

And then…

 

His lips gently brush mine in the lightest of touches. I can hardly feel it, but it sends tingles running down my spine and before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve leaned closer and pressed my mouth more firmly against his, a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh working its way up from my throat.

 

The pressure vanishes in an instant as I feel him pull away with a barely audible gasp.

 

I open my eyes and find him staring at me, grey eyes wide in a face that doesn’t seem to know whether to be shocked or terrified. His lips are parted slightly with his silent gasp and I can almost feel the fear radiating off of him.

 

“Remus…” his voice is no more than a hoarse whisper. “You’re… I didn’t realize you were…”

 

“Awake,” I breathe. My eyes are locked on his and I’m not sure I could tear them away, even had I wanted to. I lick my lips, searching for any lingering taste of him.

 

His grey eyes flicker briefly to my mouth then back to my eyes. Unconsciously, it seems, his own tongue darts out to touch his lips, a tiny flash of pink that disappears as if it had never existed.

 

I sit up slowly, eyes never leaving his. The sheets fall back as I move and the cool air in the dorm strikes my bare skin. I’m not wearing a shirt.

 

Am I really awake? Am I dreaming? I wonder. But… No. He’s never frightened in my dreams. And we never just stare at each other for this long, either.

 

I slide my legs over the edge of the bed and stand. My eyes level with his and that’s when I feel it. A spark. Electricity shooting through me, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. A low growl echoes through my head.

 

And I realize.

 

The wolf knows.

 

TBC

A/N: To e-mail me (reviews, etc.) click the link below.
KawaiiTenshi27@hotmail.com