((Warnings: FIRST- BEFORE WE CONTINUE please read the warnings, I don't want to trigger anyone. okay- here we go-Angst, Slight alcohol use, mentions of alcohol, mentions of burns, mentions of blood, self hate, guilt, rushed writing, and just some major angsty stuff, tell me if I missed anything, I don't really want to trigger anyone. I hope you enjoy.))

Fonts:

'Lyrics'

Past memories.

(Third) POV:

'I thought I saw the devil, this morning. Looking in the mirror.'

Remus stood infront of the long stand up mirror, giving him a clear view of his whole body, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except for his red puffy eyes and the glass bottle in his hand.

He looked over himself with hat seemed like hatred and disgust, He couldn't believe that this person he was seeing, was I fact himself.

'Drop of rum on my tongue, with the warning to help me see myself clearer.'

He lifted the bottle, looking down at it, noticing the words on the label, but yet, not comprehending them.

He knew it was alcohol, and that seemed like the only thing he needed to know as he undid the cap, flicking it off, hearing it fall down on the ground somewhere in his room.

He took a big gulp of the liquid, it burning his throat as he swallowed it, but he didn't seem to care as he leaning on the mirror with his free hand, staring at himself in disbelief.

'I never meant to start a fire'

He couldn't help but remember the past happenings of a few weeks ago, all the memories seeming to flood his mind as he just glared at himself.

Remus stood infront of the house, watching the flame in gulf the wood in red hot fire.

He couldn't believe that he, the one who didn't seem to mind fire, and infact loved the feel of the heat on his skin, seemed to hate it the most.

He hated to see that he was the cause for this, for a simple mistake, he caused all of this. The most worst thing possible.

He only wanted to help with the Christmas lights, to help decorate, to be apart of the tradition. Yet he messed up, one small mishap, caused all of this.

'I never meant to make you bleed.'

Remus couldn't seem to forget the look on everyone's face, while they gathered around the one person, Remus never wanted to hurt, ever.

But yet, in that moment. He did.

(Y/n) was holding onto their arm, burns all over it as they stood infront of the burning building, Patton already calling an ambulance.

Remus couldn't seem to find it in himself to say anything, nor go near them.

He knew he was the cause of this. And he paid for it.

'I'll be a better man today, I'll be good, I'll be good.'

Remus's eye twitches as he looked at his reflection, remembering the pain on everyone's face as their old home burnt to the ground.

They had all rented different places to live, Remus included.

He walked away from the mirror, not seeming to be able to stand another second of looking himself.

He walked by many unpacked boxes, dragging his feet over to his desk in his room, looking at the many other alcoholic beverages he has on the desk.

'And I'll love the world like I should, Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good.'

His hand clenched around the bottle he was holding, before he drank it all down with one big gulp, throwing the empty bottle down on the floor, watching as the glass shattered.

It made him feel better, watching the glass break, the feeling of satisfaction, the feeling of being able to make something else break instead of breaking himself.

He couldn't believe what he become, what's he's done. Everything he's done.

He sat down on his bed, the room beginning to spin a bit. He looked up, at the mirror, it still showing a reflection of himself. Something he has grown to hate.

'For all of the times that I never could.'

Remus leaned back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, the alcohol starting to kick in as well as the guilt.

The anger, the greif, the sorrow.

They all seemed to flood his senses as he couldn't help but think of everything, think of how he hurt everyone.

That wasn't his intention, yet, that was the outcome.

'My past has tasted bitter for years now, so I wield an iron fist.'

He couldn't help but notice, that he's always been like this, so morbid.

He thought it was normal, he was just being himself, but now, he doesn't want to be himself, for he's afraid of what will become of him.

He clenched his fist, the grip like iron, holding onto nothing. His nails digging in his skin, as he grits his teeth, the frustration of it all was getting to him.

'Grace is just weakness, or so I've been told, I've been cold I've been merciless.'

Remus jumps up, trudging his way over to the desk, it cluttered with the bottles, some empty, some half empty, and some not even opened yet.

He can't help the growl that escapes his lips, as his clenched fist grab one of the bottles.

He looks down at it, them back at his reflection.

"No more." He mumbled to himself, his speech slurred a bit, as he uncaps it, pouting it out on the ground, before dropping it, grabbing another and doing the same.

Bottle after bottle being poured out onto the floor, his emotions getting caught up with him as he let out a furiated groan, finally just smashing the bottle on the edge of the desk, not paying attention to the glass that pierced his skin as he picked up another bottle and threw it at the wall, he kept doing that until there were no bottles left.

The room was surrounded with glass, alcohol, boxes and a tiny puddle of blood.

'But the blood on my hands, scares me to death, maybe I'm waking up Today.'

Remus pants, trying to calm himself after his burst of anger, as he relaxes, he finally notices the sting of his hand.

He looks down in horror at his gashed hand, as he slides down onto the floor, his knees giving up strength.

'I'll be good I'll be good. And I'll love, the world like I should. I'll be good I'll be good.'

His heart twists and squeezes from the pain and the regret. The regret of everything, how the house burned along with the memories that came with it, the good and the bad, how he hurt (Y/n), how he was drinking, how he couldn't even do anything to stop the fire.

Everything seemed to weigh on his shoulders.

'For all of the light that I shut out, for all of the innocent things that I doubt.'

He remembered how he refused to talk to anyone, refused to see anyone, how he doubted that they wanted to see him anyway.

He doubted everything now.

'For all of the bruises I've cause and the tears.'

The memory of the look on (Y/n's) face as they held onto their arm, the pain he caused, the tears he caused.

He couldn't help but feel that it was all of his fault, the blame was on him. And that seemed to tear him apart.

He sat there, his knees close to his chest as the tears threatened to spill from his eyes, his hands clung to his hair a she ignored his hurt hand that was throbbing in pain.

'For all of the things that I've done, all these years. Yeah for all of the sparks that I stomped out.'

He held himself as he trembled, the thoughts of it all crashing down onto him, making him try and control his breathing.

He stood up, trying to come to a stand, and also trying to avoid the glass that was scattered across the floor.

'For all of the perfect things that I doubt.'

He can't help but long for his friends, the friendships he had, the friendship that he took for granted. That he strayed away from. That he doubted.

He walked away from the glass, trying to avoid the shards that lay all across the ground as h e found himself infront of that mirror, yet again.

He stared at himself, words repeating in his mind as he opened his mouth to say them.

"I'll be good, I'll be good."

He sneered at the mirror, as the tears rolled down his face. He lifted both of his fists that were shut tightly, and slammed them onto the mirror, repetitively.

'And I'll love the world like I should. Yeah, I'll be good I'll be good, for all of the times, I never could.'

He didn't notice the knocking on his door, as he continued to sob, the mirror cracking.

'For all of the times, I never could.'

"Remus-?? What's happening?? Are you okay-??"

A voice rang out, a voice that caught Remus's attention, a voice he wanted to hear, yet at this moment with him the state he was, he didn't.

"(Y/n).."

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((I'm I'm an angsty mood so- y'know- I hope you enjoyed. If you guys have any suggestions on how to improve my writing, I'll b staking Constructive criticism. COnsTrUcTiVE-))
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((Word count in total: 1580))