@swearwolfremuslupin
It had grown common that the air at home was heavy with tension and irritation. It hadn’t aired out for a long while, making what used to be a comfy, nice place during the good times seem depressing. Still, it was their haven. Where locks and charms and normalness still ruled. Outside was a war - inside was another kind of war, but one that they knew how to dance, a safety of sorts, too, just like always. Nothing’s changed. A place that was the only place besides the Potter’s where Sirius could relax, just be, and let his hair down. Not care. It was one reason Sirius hadn’t bothered moving out of the one-bedroom flat he shared with Remus. It was the one stability he needed, a cocoon to hide himself in. A somewhere that whispered of all the good times that had happened between the walls, a connection that still bound them together, trinkets and knick-knacks telling their lives stories. And who had the energy to bother with moving and all that entailed, in a middle of a war, when one didn’t want to be alone and when they would invariably end back up together?
The air seemed denser now, Sirius noticed as he shut the front door behind him. Always tensed, shoulders tensed tighter as a pang of dread shot through him, images of the worst flooding his mind. The catastrophic thoughts, the fears and worries growing darker and darker with each passing minute in this damn war, flooding his senses. Peter’s betrayal had only magnified it. Had sucker-punched the reality into Sirius’ soul.
It was war.
And Sirius had been such a fucking failure. He should’ve been able to see it, stop it, know it before it happened, and prevent it. Damn it.
“Hello?” He called into the air, boots heavy against the floor as he trudged inside without kicking them off. Shifting the takeaway containers from his favourite Muggle curry shop to one hand, Sirius dug inside his pocket, ready to use his wand. Always so ready. Always so fucking tense. “I’m home!”
