He’s always hated the concept of touch. His father had ingrained it into his head that there was something wrong with needing it, that there was something in the act of being touched by someone else that made Sirius inherently weak; and that had stayed with him, as ingrained into his being as the Black cheekbones on his face and the grey, grey eyes that marked him out as one of theirs. But even with all of that, Sirius had discovered quite quickly that he couldn’t live in Gryffindor Tower and avoid touch entirely.
He learned not to mind it from some people – when James clapped an arm around his shoulder and kept it there, the brief moments when Pete’s leg would brush against his in recognition of some shared moment, or even Remus’ body closer to his than normal and the heat of his lycanthropy seeping into Sirius’ close. With his brothers, he could handle it.
But Doe had always been like him – he’d only noticed it because of his own history of touch. He’d always assumed it was just part of her reserved personality, part of the fact that Doe has always spent her time one step away from her friends – while still very much with them.
But as her hands wrapped up and tangled in the nape of his neck, as she murmured into his chest her little apologies, and as she choked out a little sob – all of his aversion to touch melted away, and he just needed to be as close as possible to someone right then.
“Hey, hey no – come on Meadowes,” he grinned a little, brushing the tears off her cheeks, “It’s alright. I’m just so happy you’re alive and okay, and …,” Sirius shrugged a little, bringing his hand back and running it through his hair nervously, “I missed you.”
She's not used to this, to having someone hold her, touch her, comfort her. It's a weird feeling and she doesn't know if she likes it or not. She hardly ever touches people and if she does, it's for as short as possible. She doesn't know when she started distancing herself from people. She used to be happy, open, but ever since she found out about her powers, she's pulled away. From touch, from feelings. She has friends, but they're never close enough.
Dorcas wishes she could let people in, tell them everything, all her thoughts, her feelings. It's not like she doesn't try, but she freezes most of the time. She's too dangerous, she thinks, it's better this way. And it hurts herself to do it, but she knows it's better for them all in the end.
She lets him brush her tears off her face and even though she manages to keep from sobbing, the tears still manage to fall down her face. She sniffles, dragging the sleeve of her shirt across her face, trying to get rid of the tears, but they continue to fall. She feels a flash of irritation and she shoves her hands into her pockets, hiding her fingers before they sparked.
"Y-you missed me?" She blinks at that, then lets out a huff of laughter. "I..." she starts, then frowns. "I didn't mean for anyone to miss me. I... honestly didn't think anyone... well... would..." She can't look at him, and her eyes drop to her feet.





