[ Remus un-lolls his lolled head and moves his hand under Padfoot's chin to hold him still, for just a second, and look him in the eyes. Like he'd be able to tell how intoxicated he is by his pupils. Maybe he would be able to if he knew what he was doing, but as it is it's just for show. I have my eye on you. No alcohol poisoning on his watch.
Probably.
He lets go and pours a dash of alcohol into the bowl, says, ] No more until that's settled, [ and resumes staring at the ceiling. He isn't quiet very long. ]
I tried to thank him for helping me once.
[ Maybe that's abrupt, maybe it's unwelcome, maybe it's unhelpful when Sirius is canine and drunk, but the ceiling is only so interesting. And Remus is thinking of home, where he can't talk about James or Peter because anyone who cares at all is trying to put it behind them, moving on because they have things to move on to, and sometimes it feels like no one else remembers. ]
no subject
Probably.
He lets go and pours a dash of alcohol into the bowl, says, ] No more until that's settled, [ and resumes staring at the ceiling. He isn't quiet very long. ]
I tried to thank him for helping me once.
[ Maybe that's abrupt, maybe it's unwelcome, maybe it's unhelpful when Sirius is canine and drunk, but the ceiling is only so interesting. And Remus is thinking of home, where he can't talk about James or Peter because anyone who cares at all is trying to put it behind them, moving on because they have things to move on to, and sometimes it feels like no one else remembers. ]
It was like force-feeding a kneazle.