Tonks hadn't cried yet. She had cursed, ranted, paced, raved, but not cried. After finishing her journal entry, which she knew in the back of her mind she would probably regret once she felt better, but when that would be, she wasn't sure, Tonks had kept herself busy.
Her quarters were in shambles. She'd gone through everything, including her dresser and closets, in an attempt to find anything of Remus's. If it was, it got thrown into one of two boxes. The second was for the things that reminded her of him, and already she had expanded the box four times and started stacking things around it. Things were thrown on the ground as she stormed through her belongings, everything was out of place, and there was no room to sit and only a thin path that wound through her quarters that she took to get to room to room.
Tonks was trying to focus on her anger, because she knew the moment that dissipated, she would have to face every emotion underneath that anger, and she wasn't ready for that yet. She hadn't acknowledged the hole inside of her, but when she did, she knew it wasn't something she would be able to shake off. She loved Remus, and she'd thought she'd spend the rest of her life with him. That wasn't going to happen anymore, and worse--much, much worse, he didn't want to be in his son's life. That above everything had made her realise she had never known Remus Lupin.
"Hes?" she called, and a second later there was a loud crash. Tonks came out of the bedroom covered in dust, and she triumphantly threw a heavy book in the smaller box and three in the larger one. "There. His stuff," she said, pointing to the smaller one, "and the stuff I'm going to burn." The larger box. "Want to help? A bonfire in the courtyard might be nice."