'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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♱
'Would you know my name? If I saw you in heaven Would it be the same? If I saw you in heaven I must be strong and carry on 'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven
Would you hold my hand? If I saw you in heaven Would you help me stand? If I saw you in heaven I'll find my way through night and day 'Cause I know I just can't stay here in heaven
Time can bring you down, bend your knees Time can break your heart, have you begging please. Beyond the door, there's peace I'm sure And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven'
That night, the moon shone brighter than it had in weeks prior. Winter was well underway, and with it, there was a marked absence of the usual misery that plagued these colder months.
Hera and Sirius had gotten rather complacent with the simplicity of their life in hiding. It came more naturally to them given the years they'd each spent cast away from the Wizarding World, and given that this seclusion was self-imposed, Sirius was a great deal calmer.
Remus too, was well versed in the art of making himself scarce due to his condition — in actuality, this experience had proven most valuable now that he was confined within the couple's Wiltshire home.
Dora, however, wasn't doing so well. Now that she was on the verge of reaching the twenty-week mark and halfway through her pregnancy entirely, feelings of doubt began to settle where in other women that might've manifested as their nesting phase. She even started to question whether she possessed the maternal instincts necessary to raise a child to the best of one's possibilities.
"I feel like the most selfish person in the world for bringing a baby into this war. " Dora said darkly, slumping onto the sofa beside Hera.
Sirius and Remus had long since gone upstairs, pottering around in the makeshift nursery they'd created for the baby: There had been a few light-hearted arguments about the colour they'd chosen on the walls — Sirius argued the yellow it was currently painted was an eyesore and would only blind the child. Remus had obliged, and with the aid of his friend began to paint over it in white so that the yellow might not be so vivid.
