"I'm sorry, I just... remembered something," she muttered as her fingers traced the scars on her throat.
He placed his hands on her shoulders before whispering, "It's just me."
"It's just you," she sighed.
...
A surge of passion ignited within Joanna. After a nice evening with her friends, she was back home and did not want the euphoria inside her to leave anytime soon. She wanted to forget everything and simply embrace the light that made her feel like a floating balloon. It felt easy. As if the dirty fingerprints of those memories in her mind were being rubbed away from wear. No longer ridged and deep but smooth like a skipping stone. She could hear her heart thrumming in her ears as clearly as the notes Sirius would sometimes play on his guitar.
"Should we go to bed?" she suggestively asked Sirius, inching her way towards him.
"Sure. I was thinking may--" Sirius got interrupted when Jo fervently crashed her lips onto his. Even though he liked it, it didn't feel right.
He broke off from the kiss, "Whoa, are you all right?"
"Of course. I'm fine, why can't you just let me--" she tried to take his shirt off but his hands stopped hers.
"I'm flattered, love. But you don't have to do this tonight just because," he advised.
She whined, "I want to. C'mon Sirius, don't you trust me?" She batted her eyes with a newfound sense of playfulness.
"I do, but we don't have to rush - especially after everything," he reasoned, beginning to put on his pajamas instead of taking them off.
"This isn't rushing, and to hell with everything," she whispered before kissing the crook of his neck. He slowly pulled away.
"I don't think now's the time, love," he cautioned.
"I'm fine, give it a rest," she rolled her eyes, dismissing the subject.
He raised his voice, "You always say that."
Fidgeting with the loose button on her sweater, Jo tried to act clueless on what he was referring to, "Voldemort's army is growing stronger, more people are getting hurt. We've both seen it, but I don't know how any of this is supposed to be affecting me exclusively..."
"How is getting kidnapped and tortured by your supposed friend not affecting you in the slightest? You haven't even talked to anyone about it. Not me, not Kate, not even James," he replied.
Jo's annoying tone grew, "I have talked about it, and just because I got over it quicker than you guys doesn't mean it didn't affect me! Whether I forgave Regulus or not is my problem not yours." She couldn't understand why everyone wouldn't let her off the hook. She hated being watched from a fishbowl.
"It is my problem because I don't know what the hell is going on with you, and I haven't for the past year and you keep on putting this act like you're okay, but you're not!" His chest prominently rose and fell as he paced back and forth in the room.
"You really want to talk about it! Fine! Let me correct you, it wasn't your bloody brother who gave me these awful scars and constant nightmares. Fenrir Greyback did. He tied me to the bed and did horrible... things to me," she revealed, latching onto his wrists to stop him from moving.
Sirius eased his tone while staring down at the floor, "Look, it's your birthday, you don't have to talk about--"
She spotted the all too familiar pity, and rebuked, "No. You wanted to talk about it. Here we are. I live with this every single day. So excuse me for not wanting to relive it more times than I already do."
His glare softened at her declaration, "All I want to do is help you if you're hurt."
Frustration was teeming within her. A glass full of it that was about to tip over. Sirius wouldn't be able to stop it from spilling.
She pointed towards the outside of the window, "There are people out there who are actually dead. Who have gotten killed by Bellatrix. And Greyback. And Voldemort himself. Me being hurt is the least of our problems. So why can't anyone believe me?
"You could have died!" Sirius shouted.
"But if I say I'm fine, just trust me! It's not like everyone asks you how you're doing, no one walks on eggshells around you!" She exasperatedly said as she banged her hands on the desk.
"It's different and you know it. And I'm not the one who had a psychotic break a week ago," he answered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Yeah, well I actually liked my parents, it's called not being a heartless person," she said. The rubber band snapped. It was too late to pull it back. But once she noticed how hard the elastic hurt Sirius, she felt her stomach drop.
Why couldn't he have messed up?
She saw him turn around almost in slow motion. The seconds spread out as he picked up his coat, frame by frame his lips moving as he remarked, "In that case... sorry for forcing you to be with an emotionally detached monster like me."
She balled up her fists and closed her eyes following him out, "I didn't mean that--"
Turning the corner to the living room, he interrupted, "Don't bother waiting for me, I'll sleep somewhere else tonight. I assume it'd be the perfect present for you now. "
Even though her hand reached out in freeze-frame as well, she suddenly became aware his actual movements were much more swift, "Sirius wait--" was all she could manage to say before a loud pop echoed in the room, her hand clutching the air.
How the hell did things escalate so fast? She was in free fall, unable to stop the argument from replaying in her head. She covered her ears to dull the sound of his echoes,
I'm not the one who had a psychotic break a week ago.
She hoped her relationship with Sirius hadn't just crash-landed after getting their parachute all tangled up.
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