One Remus Lupin seems to have taken up residence in my brain. Don't get me wrong, I'm awfully fond of the fellow, but as a muse he's tempermental and given to making strange requests. He has me getting out of bed at all hours of the morning to write het of all things, and neglecting my other 3 WIPs which are nearly bloody done! Still, I wrote this
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These two passages encapsule them for me:
She is astounded that she is enough for him, all the ways she is graceless and young and too much in love, but she supposes a man like him doesn't ask much, someone who spent twelve, thirteen years loving a man who wasn't there.
She is a foreign thing to him, her bright hair on the pillow, her softness the antithesis to sharper masculine angles. At first he kept his distance, almost afraid; then he saw how perfectly she fit into his hands, his cracking life, and thought perhaps he could set old loves and habits aside for what is almost certainly called solace.
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She doesn't know if she should ask whether he's been with a woman before, but she guides his hands anyway, showing him how to touch her. He's got the actual fucking down alright, and after a week or so he'd begun to memorize her as she was learning him.
I loved that passage. It sums up their relationship for me -- something that's always a little awkward, always needs work, but has the potential to grow and be ... satisfying, at least.
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