✔️ 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐕𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄 → 𝑠. 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘

07 | G O O D B Y E S

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     Padfoot,

   three months I've been here now. I've spend three month with this man now in this house, and still I don't have the fuzziest what's going on behind this unreadable grey eyes. He didn't want me to stay. Now he doesn't want me to leave. And I swear I never in my life have been so confused as I am right now. May it be my longing for a human touch containing more than a friendly hug, or have I really fallen for him, I still don't know. But never had I wished for something else as much as having his lips on mine tonight.

   Sometimes I wonder if you're getting tired of always listening to the problems of a little girl late at night. And I guess that's my biggest problem right now. To him I'm nothing but a little girl. I'll never be more. I feel his hesitation. But I'm not a kid! I'm a woman, and yes, not long ago I had all my life together, I had a job and a man, and I was looking forward to become a wife. But this man has me feeling like I'm a stupid teenage girl, out of control with her childish feelings.

   So what am I doing? I don't want to run from him, but I'm not sure if I'm capable of staying as well. Any advice?

    Love

       Margo

   Sirius was standing in the hallway, watching Molly and Arthur levitating their luggage down into the kitchen, where they'd leave through the fireplace every now and then. But Sirius was waiting for Margo.

   He hadn't answered her last message to Padfoot. He could have easily manipulated her by giving her the advice she'd begged for. But that he didn't want to. He wanted her to stay because it was her will, not his. So if she'd decided to go now, he'd take it. Maybe it was best for both of them.

   And there she came; Sirius heart sunk as he saw the outstretched wand in front of her, a trunk floating down the steps. Throwing a small smile at Sirius he could hardly reply, she walked past him and made her way down to the kitchen.

   Sighing, Sirius followed her for a bitter goodbye. Margo placed her trunk into the fireplace together with the Weasleys' luggage.

   "That was the last one", the girl said, smiling brightly at the Weasleys. .

   After thanking Sirius about a million times for letting them live at Grimmauld Place during the summer, and a firm handshake, Mr and Mrs Weasley told Sirius with a firm handshake goodbye. That's when his eyes fell on Margo. Stretching out his hand with a forced smile, he had almost reached her, as Mrs Weasley stepped in his way, pulling Margo in a bearlike hug.

   "If you need anything, you know where to find us, do you?", the chubby woman said, now holding Margo an arm length in front of her by the shoulders.

   "You're always welcome at the Burrow", Mr Weasley added, ruffling the girl's hair. Then he lay an arm around his wife, leading her to the fireplace. Five minutes later the last green sting flame disappeared and once again Sirius and Margo were alone in this gloomy basement kitchen.

   "You won't leave?", Sirius asked, an eyebrow cocked.

   "Well combined, Sherlock", Margo scoffed, cracking a smile. "I talked to the Weasleys and they agreed that you're incapable of caring for yourself."

   Sirius was lost for words. He could do nothing but stare at the young woman in front of him in awe. She blushed under his glare, lowering her gaze to the floor.

   "Well, if you don't want me around, I can still go, you heard Molly", she blurted out. "My stuff is kinda packed, I just have to — oh!"

   Sirius had fully caught her of guard, crossing the space between them with two large steps, wrapping his arms around Margo and lifted her feet from the ground.

   "Oh, okay, I — I guess you're fine with me staying here then?", she chugged, as he placed her back on the floor.

   "Perfectly!", he barked a laughter. "What do you want for lunch? I'm not the great cook Molly is, but I'll try my best."

   "Just try to not burn down the kitchen", she snickered, her face still wearing that adorable blush.

   Of course cooking was a catastrophe. Trying to call to his memory of Mrs Potter having it looking so easily to make some french toast, Sirius was standing in front of what looked like a burned out piece of wood when Margo returned from her shower ten minutes later. She burted out laughing as she saw the misery, while a furrowed eyebrowed Sirius placed another toast in the pan. He flicked his wand to turn it, but the toast clutched against the ceiling, before landing back in the pan with a thumb noise.

   "No no no, okay, wait", Margo giggled, stepping behind him. She softly placed her small fingers around his wrist. "You're just turning toast, not fighting a troll. Give it more easy. Here, like that."

   She carefully lead his hand into a much calmer movement, and the toast simply flicked over.

   "That's just how it goes", she whispered in a bubbly voice, moving her hand back, and Sirius couldn't but follow the movement, turning around to her to find her looking up at him with a sheepish smile.

   Even without makeup and her hair still wet, she just gave an adorable view to look at. He noticed a few light freckles on her nose, he'd never seen before. Her amber eyes sparkled, as she looked at him, the corners of her mouth twitched.

   "What?", Sirius asked, his voice hoarse, cocking an eyebrow.

   "There's ham on your eyebrow, just let me ..." Her finger moved to his forehead, leaving it with a piece of ham between her fingers. Grinning, she shoved it into her mouth.

   When Sirius looked back on this moment, there was nothing he could have done to hind him from doing what he did. Catching her off guard the second time this day, his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, other hand burried into her long, silky maroon hair, just before his lips hungryly crashed on hers.

   She squeaked in surprise and Sirius jerked back in a flash.

   "Sorry!", he gasped, his hands flinching away from her body. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't —"

   "Oh no, don't you dare", she whispered and her arms flung around his neck, lips crushing back on his, and Sirius couldn't but grin. He put his hands on her waist, lifting her up just to turn around and place her on the exact same kitchen counter he hadn't dared to touch her the night before. And as finally their lips found the same rythm, the toast slowly burned into a black briquette right next to them.

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