The Godmother

23. insomniac dreams

900 reads!!! i cant believe it!!! thank you all, so here is the next chapter:))))

Thin, blue wreaths of weed and tabaco smoke filtered through the air. It felt like Elizabeth had landed in a tabaco-scented storm cloud, much like the ones that rained over Privet Drive. Elizabeth looked around the kitchen and felt a sudden itch in her throat as she breathed in the cigarettes. She coughed, held her hand to her sternum as her lungs begged for clean air.

She heard Sirius' footsteps approach from the bedroom, though couldn't see him because she had bent over to relieve her lungs.

They had moved back into Elizabeth's apartment in the centre of London. It was the easiest place for them, considering that no one- apart from Dumbledore and Remus- knew that it existed. Elizabeth and Sirius cleaned it up, repainted the walls and even used an extension charm to make a new room for Harry. They decorated it with Gryffindor posters and boyish things that Sirius and James liked as teenagers like motorbikes and to Elizabeth's disagreement, women in tight bikinis.

They'd stayed there for the entire holidays, made love, and rebounded the love that once bloomed in their relationship. Going to bed every night with Sirius filled a hole inside of Elizabeth that she didn't know existed. And with Harry aware of the truth- that his Godfather was not a murderer and his DADA was actually his Aunt and Godmother- she rested easier and more dreamfully than she had in a longer time than she could remember. It felt like life had hit 'play'.

"Are you alright?", Sirius asked. He rubbed his palm against Elizabeth's back for a few moments before Elizabeth gathered her breath and stood up again. She held onto his arm as she stood back up, glaring at him.

"It's a little smoky in here, don't you think?", she asked, raising her eyebrow. She left go of his arm as a smirk rose across his face.

"I swear- I was blowing out the window", Sirius said, defensively.

"Uh huh", Elizabeth mumbled. She turned on her feet and went over to the windows overlooking the street. She opened them up, all the way, so that the smoke could filter from the building. Sirius sat back on the couch bored and lit another cigarette. Elizabeth turned around and frowned at him. "Can you atleast sit by the windowsill? I don't want the walls turning yellow", she tutted.

Sirius heaved up from the couch with a groan and walked past her to the window, planting a tabaco-y kiss on her lips.

"Anything for you, my love", he said. He fell back down by the windowsill and smoked.

It was a dirty habit he'd picked up since having the ability and resources to get cigarettes. He would send Elizabeth to the muggle shops to buy Marlboros or a pack of Camels frequently. Sometimes once a day. Sometimes thrice. It often depended on how much sleep he acquired the night before. Often, Sirius liked to stay up at night and watch the moon. He'd sit by the window in their bedroom and stare out at the night sky, at the stars, and think as loudly as a ground-rattling house party. His eyes would scan the stars. Elizabeth could sometimes imagine him naming them all. Andromeda... Arcturus... Rigel... Vega... Bellatrix... Orion...

Half the time he'd stare out with a whole universe of anxiety fueling his insomnia. Elizabeth grew scared. He'd become somewhat of a shell of a man, walking around, smoking, thinking, all without saying a word. When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. There was something ticking in his head. A clock. And when time was up, what would happen? Would be explode?

Elizabeth understood his silence. It was easier to shut her trap. Get through the day. Ignore and pretend the giant sigh that held her down wasn't there. Sirius cared- possibly too much. They kissed and admitted their faults, but Elizabeth could tell that the lack of air and inability to leave the apartment- except to get cigarettes- was going to his head. The four walls were driving him mad. Elizabeth understood his pain and rage. His big 'fuck you' to the world that took the form of silence and smoking.