The next morning, America was sitting on her bed, perched against her pillows. Her book was at her side, but she had not pick it up.
She had relived the kiss in her mind approximately forty-two times.
In fact, she was reliving it right now:
America would have liked to think that she would be the sort of woman who could kiss with confidence, then carry on for the rest of the evening as if nothing had happened. She'd have liked to think when the time came to treat a boy with well-deserved disdain, that butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, her eyes would be perfect chips of ice, and she would manage a cut direct with style and flair.
And in her imagination, she did all of that and more.
Reality, however, had not been so sweet.
Because when Sirius had said her name and tried to tug her back to him for another kiss, the only thing she could think to do was run.
Which was not, she had assured herself, for what had to be the forty-third time since his lips had touched hers, in keeping with her character.
It couldn't be. She couldn't let it be. She was America Potter.
America.
Potter.
Surely that had to mean something. One kiss could not turn her into a senseless ninny.
And besides, it wasn't the kiss. The kiss hadn't bothered her. The kiss had, in fact, been rather nice. And, to be honest, long overdue.
One would think, in her world, among Hogwarts, that she would have taken pride in her untouched, never-been-kissed-by-Sirius-Black status. Or, embarrassingly, never-been-kissed-at-all. After all, the mere hint of impropriety was enough to ruin a girl's reputation.
But one did not reach the age of fifteen, or one's fifth year, without feeling the littlest bit rejected that no boy had not thus far attempted a kiss.
And they had not. America wasn't asking to be ravished, for heaven's sake, but no one had even leaned in, or dropped a heavy gaze to her lips, as if he were thinking about it.
Not until last night. Not until Sirius Orion Black.
Her first instinct had been to jump with surprise. For all Sirius' rakish ways, he hadn't shown any interest in extending his reputation as a rogue in her direction. The man had a girl tucked away in every corner, after all. What on earth would he need with her?
But then . . .
Well, good heavens, she still didn't know how it had all come about. One moment she was storming to go to murder her brother and then the next he was staring at her with an intensity that had made her shiver. He'd looked possessed, consumed.
He'd looked as if he wanted to consume her.
And yet America couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't really meant to kiss her. That, maybe any woman happening across him in the hall would have done just as well.
YOU ARE READING
Without Another Choice- Sirius Black
Fanfiction"Ew, Ames. Never date a guy who likes V8," Remus said. She rolled her eyes. "And why not?" she challenged. "Because you can never trust a guy who drinks his vegetables," Sirius explained as if it were obvious. "Plus, tomato juice breath is r...
