Shut Up, Padfoot!

102

He plucked a mascara particle from my cheek, a dismissive look as he flicked it away. It's incredible that his eye bags look as deep as mine. The urge to fall to pieces suddenly settled. The sun bore heavy into my back. The heat scorched my skin. Sweat dribbled down my spine. Misery accompanied my content afternoon with my lover.

This is an uncommon peace I haven't had in awhile. Recently, my memories have been jumbled. My thoughts in disarray. It's not often you'll find me slouching with Sirius on the grassy courtyard. Unbelievably, he still has studies. His schedule is packed but he disregards it all for me.

"It's hot," I sighed.

"Yeah," he replied.

Horribly hot. My eye caught sight of Iris passing the steps. Luckily, it seemed to occur to her as well. She smiled widely, so wide that I could see it from here, along with a just as joyful wave. I lifted my wrist in the air, reciprocating with a small smile. Her robes bellowed behind her as she continued on her way, possibly to meet Remus.

She's kept her distance from me. Not that I can blame her. Sometimes you just can't handle the chaos. From what I heard from Moony, she spends most her time exclusively with him and back in her common room. I just wish I could've created a stronger bond with her before this all.

Sirius leaned back on his elbows, brows scrunched and legs splayed out. I glanced at him, digging my fingers in the grass. Dirt entered my nailbeds, a quaint annoyance.

"I wanna go inside," he complained.

"Me too."

Neither of us made a move to do so. My breathing slowed and I diverted my gaze to the fountain. Shabby thing, that is. Dirty coins on the bottom of the moldy stone. Greenish water rippled, reminding me of third year. Where the boys held Snape's head underwater...not for too long to make anyone worry, just a dunk. God, we were a menace.

"I wanna... I wanna sleep. For forever," I blurted.

"Sounds wonderful. When this is all over, I'm not leaving my bed, unless for a piss. Maybe not even then," he agreed.

A lump formed in my throat, disregarding his statement. I feel miserable. My tank top is sticking to my skin, I have a few years left, I can feel the large scar on my abdomen. My legs are hairy, my joints ache, I'm lightheaded. I'm tired.

"Oi, your little rose isn't in the middle," he murmured.

I turned my head to him. We made eye contact before his narrowed eyes flickered back to my chest. He lazily pointed to the collar of my shirt. The ribboned rose accent I had sewn in years before lined up in my vision.

Instantly, I burst into tears.

"I know! Don't remind me!" I blubbered.

He straightened up, completely alarmed. My cheeks were immediately drenched in tears. Salt went detected by my tastebuds. His hand gently grazed my elbow, afraid I'll start to wail. As if his fears manifested it, I cried out.

"Cry, I- It's in the middle, I swear! I was just...just joking. Come here," he stuttered.

I flung myself onto him, face smushed in his shirt. His hand pressed into the back of my sweaty pointelle tank top. He's lying. I know it's off-center, I just wish he hadn't pointed it out!! I feel like a child. I'm just so frustrated and overwhelmed. This cry was clawing its way out almost every chance it can get.

"I didn't mean to make you upset. It's perfect, no one would even notice it," he reassured.

"Padfoot, is it in the middle or not??" I whined.

"In...the middle..." he hesitated.

"Stop lying!!!" I exclaimed.

He huffed, pushing my shoulder. I pulled back from him, glancing at the tear stains on the fabric. He took his whole palm and wiped one side of my face. My nose scrunched momentarily at how rough he was.

"What's wrong, really, Fawkes?" he questioned.

Sirius repeated the action on the other half. Tear drops continued falling but not as much as before. I swallowed harshly. He tapped my nose before letting his hand rest on my knee.

"I don't want to say it outloud," I quietly said.

"Why? Just say it," he urged.

"No. It's sad," I denied.

His shoulders rose then fell slowly, showing his frustration. He didn't sigh audibly but the fact that I saw it made the knot in my chest tighten. This is Sirius, I can tell him anything. Except, that I can't.

Everyone expects me to continue on. I've always been the one that came back from every setback. Hell, I'll give in and even say like a phoenix. But it's hard to raise myself to their expectations. Every come back gets harder and harder. The revival is getting further away from my reach.

But just like I said, I'm like a phoenix. Not actually a phoenix. I'm not immortal. I'll never be immortal.

"Just say it," he prodded softer this time.

I looked into his eyes. His jaw clenched and his gaze hardened with determination. I wonder if he ever thinks he's cursed. I'll never think he would be. But with all the things that happen to him, to the people around him; I fear the thought might cross his mind.

"I just wish I was dead already," I whispered.

His brows relaxed and his mouth parted. Quickly, regret flooded my system and I lowered my head. I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut. My chest physically hurt and it pained me to breathe. I covered my lids with my hand, sobbing as silently as I could.

Why did I say it? The memory of us on the empty train flashed. My lowest moment... the crime that I committed. The one sin that I will never forgive myself for. I just saw a replication of the face I saw when I told him I was a murderer.

His large fingers wrapped around my wrist, his thumb in my pulse point. He lightly pulled my hand from my face and brought me back into him. My mouth pressed into his shoulder.

I couldn't bear to stare out over his shoulder.

-lana