he doesn’t dare to move —- because if he do, she will disappear ; sirius knows it, saw this again and again and again in his cell and then in the caves and ruins he was hiding, and in shadows of this very house when he couldn’t sleep, nightmares and his own mind an enemy. he knows he is not fine, that he may be a little insane - oh merlin, molly was right to try to keep her children away from him, he was a mad man, he was too broken and—-
but she doesn’t scream at him.
every time he saw her before, she yells. how much she hates him, how much he ruined everything, how much she wishes he would just die already, sirius, it’s pathetic, it’s not like anybody could love you like this, i don’t even remember you anymore. but now, her voice sounds so soft, like after fights when they said bad things and apologies and i’m sorrys’ and i love yous’ —- it makes breathing even harder. and he closes his fist, slowly, digging a little too long nails into his skin to feel, to wake up.
“ you could tell me i’m still a handsome devil. “ his joke sounds hollow and his mouth is so dry right now. he let his eyes travel over her body, just a little and merlin, godric and all the gods, she looks so perfect. “ i —- “ he starts, but he doesn’t even know what he wants to say. ‘ i missed you ‘ ? ‘ your face kept me sane ‘ ? he doesn’t want to brings that up, too close to things he doesn’t want to know ( why you didn’t visit me in azkaban, why you didn’t wrote, did you believed me, why why why ) so he let the words die on his lips, taking a ragged, quiet breath. it wasn’t like he had right to ask, maybe before, but not now.
sirius swallow, trying to keep emotion inside, but he was never good at it — so all he could do was lifting his hand quickly and wipe the tear that rolled down his left cheek, murmuring a little about so dry air, it’s hurts my eyes. “ you look beautiful, “ he said, voice soft and he looks in her face again, letting himself believing that she is here for real. “ i — “ he starts again and chuckle, a low and pathetic sound even to his own ears. “ i don’t know what to say too, sylvie, “ he admits, shaking his head a little.
“ —- did you become a Potion Master? rocked potions’ world? “ that was safe. the bits of information he remember, what dementors couldn’t take from him —– her smell, the little talks in bed on lazy mornings, how her skin felt on his lips when he kissed her neck before rolling out, the talks about future, somewhere, together, white dresses, and i dos’ , and ‘ nice to meet you, i’m sirius redwynn‘ and maybe, one day soon, a sound of tiny feet and children’s laugh echoing through their home—-
he stopped that train of thoughts ; that one will not happen, not to him, not anymore, so he just make sure to look at sylvanas and not ending a mess on the floor from the feeling in his chest.
How many times has she imagined this? Meeting him again after all these years. She thought of nearly every possibility of what might happen yet none of it prepared her for how she felt right in this moment. Her hand, as if a reflex, reaches up and holds tightly to the ring strung around her neck as she watches his movements. She no longer dreams, slipping into a veil of darkness not unlike that of what she imagined Azkaban to be like so her dreams moved into her waking moments and stopped her sometimes with how deeply she felt something when she thought of him. Small reminders or things she thought he might enjoy. Things cluttered her dorm for months and then her trunk and her childhood room became littered with future presents for Sirius because she believed he would be free. Months turned to years and years to decades and eventually the trinkets and memories were packed away in a trunk and left to collect dust.
“You’re still a handsome devil, Sirius,” she echoes, falling into easy habits with the wizard. She remembers many a day in the Great Hall and court yards and Quidditch pitches where they would spend as much time as allowed together outside classes. It’s easy to say the words, she still believes them to be true. He might be thin and worn and aged but to her, he looks as beautiful as the first day she met him at Hogwarts. She remembers his laugh, James had said something that sent the Gryffindor table into laughter and she’d not paid the band of boys much attention until then- until her eyes met his and she swears she knew what love at first sight felt like. They were kids, they knew nothing of the world and yet they’d somehow found each other and despite the whispers and stares had fallen in love. She’d never found anyone else, she was too wrapped up in him to notice the advances of others or care for their attention.
His eyes say things his lips can’t and she nearly disappears from the room, it’s all too much. She worries this may have been a mistake, a blunder on her part. Full of those lately, this is just something to add to the list of reasons she’s become reckless and careless- but she had to see him, she had to look at him at least one last time.
Her hand drops from the necklace and she finds herself closing the distance between them carefully, slowly, as not to startle either one of them. She listens for anyone to come home, so she might break up their reunion and escape while she still can. Hearing him confirm he was also lost on what to say almost made her feel better, until the question came out of his mouth. Her face betrays her emotions, she can’t hide how she feels. Anger swirls in her chest, constricting and hot like fire tendrils from some unholy depths. “No,” came her reply. “I became an Auror instead.” And ruined my life doing it. Mouth opens to tell him what happened next but closes it instead, looking away from him finally to glance out the window. Daylight still. Trapped.
