If you're still taking prompts... Remus is too afraid to stay with Sirius and that he's gonna hurt him so he leaves Sirius in the middle of the night
The last full moon - it’s all Remus thinks about. He closes his eyes and he sees himself waking up with Sirius’s blood on his hands.
“It’s fine. I can handle a little bit of a scuffle,” Sirius says with a laugh as he bandages the wounds on his arm. Remus has to help him with the one on his shoulder, and he feels Sirius flinch even if he does his best to stay tough.
“It’s not fine. I hurt you.”
“And you haven’t hurt me like this before, so I’d say you have a pretty great track record.” Sirius stretches out his arms and winces a little. “It’s just a bit sore, but it’ll heal up.”
“It’ll probably scar,” Remus says. “The one on your shoulder, I mean.”
“And then I’ll look even more punk rock.” Sirius winks at him, gets up, and moves toward the kitchen. “I’ll whip something up. You just sit and stop fretting.” Sirius leaves the room, and Remus drops his head between his legs.
All it takes is one slip up. One time where things go wrong. One time where he bites deep or in all the wrong places. And Sirius is gone by his hand. He counts to four as he breathes in, holds it for seven seconds, and releases in eight. Once… Twice… He does it a total of ten times before he starts to cry.
Sirius may be right that this is the first time, but even if he doesn’t kill Sirius, Remus can’t help but think about how he would feel hurting him like this again. It took him three years after they started to stop feeling nauseous whenever Sirius kissed his scars, but Sirius loves them. He traces them with he fingers sometimes and tells Remus that each are like little battle scars, done out of bravery.
Remus wonders how that can be so when he feels like such a coward.
He makes the decision quickly. He doesn’t own many things. Sirius hoards clothes and collects little things, Muggle trinkets and wizarding paraphernalia that Remus tells him will only be exciting for the first two months. Sirius never listens.
He hates messily folded clothes. He tries his best to clean up after Sirius when he leaves clothes everywhere, even after just trying on different outfits in the morning. But messily folded clothes will have to do. He doesn’t have time for a clean packing spell.
It takes a few moments for all of his things to come together, and he leaves chunks of it out. It’s just easier. Three suitcases and a bag are plenty to carry.
He allows himself one last look of the room. Their room. Sirius’s pajamas are still thrown on the floor from last night. The nightstand has two glasses of water on them. Several of his smaller things sit on the dresser.
But he knows he can’t dwell or else he’ll change his mind. He knows if he lets himself sit down, he’ll come up with an excuse to stay.
Remus turns around to see Sirius holding a tray filled with food. “I have to leave,” is all Remus says.
“What are you doing? No!” He sets the tray down on the ground and walks over. “Why are you packed up?”
“I hurt you.”
“Stop being fucking ridiculous.” He grabs Remus’s hand and holds it tightly.
“What else am I going to do?”
“I knew you were a werewolf when we started dating. It’s my choice to make to date you.”
“I can’t.” Remus yanks his hand back and steps past Sirius with his breath caught in his throat.
He can’t listen or else he’ll give up. Or else he’ll unpack and curl up next to Sirius. But the next full moon will come. And every one after that.
“I’m sorry.” He waves his wand and Apparates. It takes him a moment after he lands safely to let out a sob. And another. He knows it’s better alone. It always has been, but it’s never hurt before, not like this. The pain is in his throat and lungs and stomach. “I’m sorry,” he says again.