InsaneJournal

He had left the Thrift Store with a new (used) pair of red chucks on his feet, a set of wide-leg, very seventies jeans, and a long-sleeve polyester brown-toned shirt, with a very large collar.. also very seventies, but very in-style, for the werewolf. The clothes in the store had seemed very normal and natural for him, so he'd had no trouble dressing in them. And he had a pair of black chucks at home.. but not red ones. So he actually sort of liked these. And the girl, Rose, she'd said he looked so cute in them. The thought made his cheeks turn a little pink. A girl had complimented him.. girls never noticed him, not when he was standing between James and Sirius. He didn't mind it, really. They were the outgoing ones who got all the attention and Remus.. well. Remus was the smart one. The one who would have been an outcast, if not for his friends.

And it was as he thought of them that he came to a slow stop, eyes glued down onto his book and the map in his hands. He was in the middle of finishing the Marauders map with his friends, at the present time.. and he wished he had foot prints on this one to tell him where he was going, and where everyone else was.. but there weren't. And hazel eyes remained steady on the map, glued to the page there instead of looking around, as perhaps he should have been. He looked quite a site, really, with the large gauze pad on his cheek, and the few cuts on his face, as well as the heavy bruising.. and the gauze on the back of his hand, which was now starting to get red again with his blood, thanks to all the movement. There was more hidden beneath his long shirt, but he was trying to be careful of how he stretched and bent, lest he make any more of it bleed.. he was a little worried that one of the cuts on his chest was bleeding again, but he was hoping the brown shirt would hide it, if the blood made it there. It'd only look dark and wet. Rose had said there were doctors here, but there wasn't really much they could do..

Remus let out a heavy sigh and lifted his uninjured hand to rub through that dirty blonde hair (lighter, in the sunlight), mixing up the small clumps of gray with the rest. He wanted to fall asleep, so he could wake up and go home.. then again, he was worried to. Because what if he woke up.. and he wasn't home. What if he was still here?