The Beach

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It’s much easier to go barefoot on this part of the beach. Charlie isn’t particularly fond of the ocean; he hates the endlessness and the fact that you can look out and see nothing for miles. He likes open space, but he likes it defined with mountain borders and forest edgings. He steps on the rocks and mutters curses beneath his breath when sharp edges dig into the bottom of his feet. It’s a romantic setting, for sure, but all he can think about is the rock poking through his skin.

Then he hears a familiar laugh, carefree and happy, and he forgets about rocks and roaring waves as he looks up.

Her hair is violet today, a beautiful shade that he remembers spread out against the white of his pillowcase years ago. Older and wiser, both of them, but their gazes meet across the span of the beach and time stops for a few moments. Memories rush over him, wet kisses and fumbling gropes, her laughter as he falls on her and her whimper as he slides inside her tight heat, the feel of her fingernails digging into his back as she urges him to move faster, harder Charlie, more and the look in her eyes when she shudders beneath him.

In one look, they remember. They share eighteen months of sneaking around Hogwarts, of first love and first times, of friendship and laughter, of distance and drifting apart, of love found and chances lost. She smiles at him and beckons him closer, the moment passed as she turns to kiss her new husband. Charlie shivers as the wind blows in from the ocean and smiles when he sees the way Remus holds her, like she’s everything worth cherishing and loving. Their moment passed years ago, he knows, and he’s glad she’s found someone to love her the way she deserves.

When he blinks and wipes his eyes, he blames it on sand and a windy day at the beach.