#yall i've forgotten to post the last few chapters on here

[lostmykeysie]

It’s windier up in the Peak District, the pleasantly warm breeze pushing Remus’s too-long curls back off his sweat dampened forehead. His freckles have been out in full force for the last few weeks since the unusually warm sun had settled, and the skin across his nose and at the tops of his cheeks feels perpetually tight. It’s the only part of him that ever burns; the rest of him—where the sun has shone, at least—is a warm bronze that gets deeper by the day, his scars looking brighter and whiter where they slash across his body. 

It’s strange. The older Remus gets and the more self-acceptance he has for himself, the better he’s able to deal with the insecurity that used to slice him into pieces worse than the Wolf, and yet he’s never before felt quite this settled, this comfortable in his own skin. 

And then he thinks back to last weekend.

Chapter Eight: Remus, July, 1982

The Missing Link