obeetaybee (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
obeetaybee) wrote2009-06-27 08:51 pm
obeetaybee) wrote2009-06-27 08:51 pm
moon, moon, moonlight
moon, moon, moonlight
Remus Lupin, 225 words
originally written in 2005, cleaned up and posted in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
imochan's Remus/Sirius LOVE POST here
Alone.
The bottom of robes and inside of boots wet.
He shouldn’t be out. He’s hunting the trail of the moon.
Moon, moon, moonlight.
Feel the pull of the moon.
The pock-marked orb lies low, the trees of the forest silhouetted, standing sentry against the black sky.
Heat stings skin, he raises his face to the light.
The sensation of a million crawling insects under his skin.
Feeling urges, urges denied.
Teeth clenched together tightly, wanting to bite, tear, chew. Teeth are humming.
Boots slip in mud. Sliding backwards, down, he’s falling. Landing on his back, moon over head.
Moon, moon, moonlight.
Sitting up and clenching fists into the ooze, the mud sliding through his fingers, imagined prey.
A splash in the distance, the ripple growing ever wider across the span of the lake. Shards of diamonds sprinkle along the surface, glistening, taunting.
Fingers flexing in the mud, imagined claws, digging, ripping, tearing flesh. Skin tightening, bones aching to be released. Senses alert.
Smell, smell, nose to the wind.
Woodsmoke.
Pumpkins. Rot. Meat. Leaves. Earth, dirt. Fur.
Blood.
Teeth, teeth, clench. Insects sigh in the trees above.
Mud underfoot, lake at his toes. So easy to slide towards the water.
Down, down, drown. Misery, forsaken. Redemption granted. Requiem held.
Moon, moon, moonlight.
No.
Not full, not yet.
Soon.
I miss you, Remus Lupin
Remus Lupin, 225 words
originally written in 2005, cleaned up and posted in
imochan's Remus/Sirius LOVE POST hereAlone.
The bottom of robes and inside of boots wet.
He shouldn’t be out. He’s hunting the trail of the moon.
Moon, moon, moonlight.
Feel the pull of the moon.
The pock-marked orb lies low, the trees of the forest silhouetted, standing sentry against the black sky.
Heat stings skin, he raises his face to the light.
The sensation of a million crawling insects under his skin.
Feeling urges, urges denied.
Teeth clenched together tightly, wanting to bite, tear, chew. Teeth are humming.
Boots slip in mud. Sliding backwards, down, he’s falling. Landing on his back, moon over head.
Moon, moon, moonlight.
Sitting up and clenching fists into the ooze, the mud sliding through his fingers, imagined prey.
A splash in the distance, the ripple growing ever wider across the span of the lake. Shards of diamonds sprinkle along the surface, glistening, taunting.
Fingers flexing in the mud, imagined claws, digging, ripping, tearing flesh. Skin tightening, bones aching to be released. Senses alert.
Smell, smell, nose to the wind.
Woodsmoke.
Pumpkins. Rot. Meat. Leaves. Earth, dirt. Fur.
Blood.
Teeth, teeth, clench. Insects sigh in the trees above.
Mud underfoot, lake at his toes. So easy to slide towards the water.
Down, down, drown. Misery, forsaken. Redemption granted. Requiem held.
Moon, moon, moonlight.
No.
Not full, not yet.
Soon.
I miss you, Remus Lupin