The sun was setting over the horizon. Sirius was lying on the shore, the water lapping at his feet and the sand clinging to his salty skin. Marlene ran in front of him, laughing, her white shirt soaked through and her blonde hair glowing in the summer light. Her every movement seemed like an invitation, a dance.
“Come on,” she shouted, spinning around and splashing water. “Or are you just going to stand there all day watching?”
Sirius smiled that smile that always seemed to hide a challenge.
“I’m admiring the scenery,” he replied, his voice deep.
The wind carried Marlene’s laughter to him, a laugh that sounded like music to his ears. She moved toward him, the water rising to her knees, and for a moment the world was reduced to that golden glow, the breath of the sea, and the touch of the waves against their bodies
Summer had granted them a respite from the war. After months of chaos, sleepless nights, and wounds that wouldn’t heal, they had escaped to a remote coast where no one knew them and time seemed to stand still. There, amid the lapping of the waves and the scent of salt, they could pretend they were just two young lovers, with no history, no destiny, and certainly no war.
Marlene stepped closer until she was standing right in front of him.
“Do you know what I like about this place?” she asked.
“That there’s no one here to judge us.”
“Exactly,” she said, and leaned in to wet his chest with her hands. “Here, we’re not Black or McKinnon. We’re just us.”
Sirius looked at her as if he wanted to etch that moment into his memory.
“Then let me remember it well,” he whispered, and pulled her toward him.
The water enveloped them, cold and refreshing. Marlene rested her forehead on his shoulder, feeling the beat of his heart mingle with the swell of the sea. There was something about that moment of intimacy that was more than desire: it was survival, it was the need to cling to something real before it all faded away.
The sun was slowly setting, and the light was growing softer, more intimate. Sirius lifted her into his arms, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She laughed, surprised, and wrapped her arms around him.
“What are you doing?”
“Fulfilling a fantasy,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to carry you like this, just like in those ridiculous movies you love so much.”
“And then what?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Then I’ll drop you into the water.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
He let her go gently, and they both fell into the waves, laughing, splashing each other like children. The sea enveloped them, and for a moment everything was light and movement, a dance between salt water and skin. When Marlene surfaced, Sirius was waiting for her, his hair plastered to his forehead and his eyes shining as if the sun had been trapped inside them.
“You’re impossible,” she said, moving closer.
“And you’re my favorite disaster.”
They kissed. It was a slow, salty kiss, full of love and goodbyes that hadn’t come yet. The sky was ablaze behind them, and the world seemed to stop to watch.
Later, when the sun had set and the air had grown cooler, they lay down on the sand. Marlene rested her head on Sirius’s chest, listening to his steady breathing.
“Do you think we’ll remember this when it’s all over?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “But I hope not.”
She closed her eyes.
“Then promise me you won’t forget this moment when the water is cold.”
“I promise,” he said, stroking her hair. “And you promise me you won’t forget how the sun feels when I look at you.”
In the distance, the lights of a boat twinkled like stars. Marlene thought that summer was a beautiful lie: a parenthesis where everything seemed possible, even happiness. But she also knew that the sweetest lies were the ones that hurt the most when they ended
Sirius sat up, looked at the horizon, and then at her.
“Do you want to go back into the water?”
“Only if you carry me again.”
“Always,” he said.
He lifted her up, and the sea welcomed them as if it had known them forever. The twilight enveloped them, and their silhouettes merged with the reflection on the water. In that moment, there was no war, no past, and no future. Just two bodies seeking each other, two souls recognizing each other in the glow of summer.
When night fell, they stayed on the shore, gazing at the stars. Marlene traced constellations on Sirius’s chest with her fingertips.
“That’s you,” he said, pointing to a lone star. “You shine even when everything else goes dark.”
“And you,” she replied, “are the shadow that follows me, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
Summer, Sirius thought, was a mirage. But if he had to lose himself in one, it would be in hers.
