He wakes without having slept properly; the sunlight is leaking into the room, stale and far too bright.
The room seems dead, everything too quiet. It’s funny, he supposes, as he’s had experience with this sort of thing before. He remembers the first of November, over fourteen years ago. Trying to comprehend that everything’s been torn away.
It’s not any easier now.
There are still traces in this room - a shirt draped carelessly across the chair; a broken watch on the desk.
That’s all that’s left now. Traces.
He is numbed to everything right now, he decides, because all he can bring himself to think now is that it’s odd.
At just this time yesterday, Sirius had opened his eyes, watching with a lazy sort of half smile on his face - he never seemed to smile fully anymore (never would,
Remus reminded himself) - and said, “Close the curtains, Moony. That’s too bright for six in the morning.”
And so he closes them, just as he had yesterday, and then pauses. Standing alone in the dark, he isn’t quite sure what to do now that there’s no reason to get back into bed.
It is a barren wasteland of the mind - a sense of nothingness, and eternity; he feels as though all he needs is to open his eyes, but he can’t bring himself to somehow. There is no point in trying.
He supposes this is hell, because there aren’t angels, or fluffy white clouds, or any of the ridiculous cliches associated with heaven. And because she isn’t here with him, even though he feels quite sure she should be. He remembers, vaguely, being cradled in her arms- “Would you like me to lie to you now?”
- but cannot recall her face, or the way it felt to touch her. He drowns in ice and an odd, piercing blue when he tries. She is fading away from him, something he wouldn’t have thought possible.
Her voice echoes in his head sometimes, but it too is disappearing, and all he’s left with are her words. “You’re a good man”
- and he knows it’s not the truth, because if he was he would not be here. “He won’t leave me now,”
there was no choice, doesn’t she understand, but he supposes if she did she’d be with him. “We’ll be together.”
And suddenly it occurs to him that all the words spilt from her lips were lies.