Feeling the light touch leaving his skin, Remus turned his hand to wrap his own fingers around Sirius' wrist in much the same gesture as he'd used with James several nights before.
"What have we said about flattery?" he asked with an even softer than usual version of his trademark pseudo-smirk.
He took in Sirius' appearance in silence for a moment. Remus couldn't remember his friend visiting before he was petrified. There had been vague memories of that familiar scent, tainted with the tang of worry and anxiety. But, it was always fleeting and barely registered upon waking from fitful, feverish slumber. So, Remus didn't know if his friend had really been there or if his own mind had been playing tricks on him because he wanted to think Sirius had been there.
That Sirius was physically all right, Remus knew. Others had confirmed it for him when he asked. This was the first time Remus was able to see for himself, however, and he felt his breathing ease at the confirmation from all his senses -- still somewhat sluggish as they were -- that his friend was physically well and whole. Of course, Remus knew physical was only a portion of the story and chances were there were things his senses couldn't tell him plaguing Sirius or he wouldn't be sitting here watching a cured werewolf sleep in much the same way James had sat and watched a poisoned werewolf sleep the week before.
"It's good to see for myself that you're okay," he went on softly. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd really died and no one wanted to tell me for fear I'd give up."