"I’ll, er, put these down then, shall I?" Remus gestures awkwardly to the dining table with the bags of takeout in his hands, and at Sirius’ vague nod, sets about taking the food out. Sirius stands quietly between the door and the table, watching. It’s such a familiar sight, Remus opening boxes of takeout and setting out utensils, that Sirius feels as though they had just graduated Hogwarts, just moved into the flat together, still trying to figure out how to be adults and living off of the takeout from down the street. With Remus’ head bowed and his coat still on, the only differences are a few grey hairs and one thin silvery scar across the back of his right hand.