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“There isn’t going to be a next time,” Remus said, pulling on his robe then cloak, and doing up the buttons.
“What?” Both the question and the sincerity of it escaped Severus before he could think better of them. Heat and shame rose to his cheeks as he heard how it sounded, even as the burgundy crushed velvet hanging all along the walls—eaten through in places and giving the effect what went on in the room was watched by hundreds of black, glittering eyes—swallowed the impact of his words. It wasn’t a question so much a fervent denial of what Severus clearly hoped he misheard.
“I’m seeing someone.” Remus said it casually as he finished buttoning his cloak. He looked around Severus where he stood in front of the vanity mirror to fix his hair. “It was fun though. While it lasted.” Remus finished with his hair, didn’t meet Severus’ gaze, refused to look at the expression on his face, turned, and left the boudoir.
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Bookmark Notes:
Cute