Rivals [A Sirius Story]

« 13: Skeptical »

« Sirius' POV »

My eyes grow larger and then narrow as I stare down at the curly - haired brunette staring up at me. "And why would you be out here?" I question, angry and curious at once.

"It's the weekend. I can be anywhere I like," she replies harshly. "And with anyone you like too, clearly," I snap.

"Your point?" she counters.

"What are you doing with him?"

"Not constantly being harassed."

"That's overrated."

"Not as much as the nickname 'Princess' is."

"Don't lie, Princess, you love it."

"In your dreams."

"My dreams always seem to come true."

"Did you dream about leaving me alone?"

"Never."

"That's a shame, a girl can only hope."

I stare at her, causing her to glare right back until I tear my eyes away. "I don't understand. Why do you get so worked up?" she asks, evidently softened by my giving up first in our little staring competition.

"About what?" I ask, stalling. The question she is about to ask me is one I would truly rather not respond to.

She looks at me in what first appears to be exasperation, but quickly dissolves into something...else. It's an expression I can't pinpoint. I don't remember it from my childhood; I sometimes see it in my friends' eyes. When I see it in Peter's eyes, it's typically mingled with something akin to desperation, whereas in Remus', there tends to be fond indulgence. In James' eyes, I usually see mischief and appreciation.

In Marlene's eyes, I see it mixed with worry. A fear of caving in. To what, I don't know.

"Why do you get so worked up..." she repeats, "when I talk to Reg?

"Even when I was just...friends...with him, you came over to annoy us. Now you started a full - blown confrontation. Why?"

"You know why," I state aggressively. Confusion colours Marls' face as she takes a step back. "You've got very little space to be rude, you know," she hisses.

"You're right," I admit, surprising her. "Then why are you?" she counters.

—»«—

Shit. That did not go well.

As I pace up and down the boys' dormitories, the Marauders assault me with questions upon questions.

"What the actual fuck happened after she asked you that?" Remus questions, James giggling at his use of an expletive. I frown, shaking my head, giving an unspoken vow to not explain further. Remus folds his arms and stares me down until I throw my hands up in the air. "Fine!" I exclaim. After a moment, I mumble something indecipherable.

"What was that?" Remus asks, his sternness slipping slightly to reveal curiosity.

"I said, 'I'm allowed to be rude because you fucked up when you decided to date my loser brother.'"

James keels over, sobbing in laughter. "How bad at flirting can you get??" he howls through tears of amusement.

I run a hand through my wavy hair and ignore him. Remus claps me on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Padfoot," he comforts me. "I mean, well, you should worry a little bit, because obviously, you fucked up, but don't worry extensively. Just apologize."