"I hope you know I'm still drawn to you like nicotine."
-Picture Me Broken, "Nerds and Cigarettes"
Sirius can still taste Remus on his lips. That final kiss, so long ago, only hours before their lives went to hell, still lingers as though it had been given only moments ago.
He leans against his cell wall, eyes closing. He can feel the Dementor's chill biting into his bones, freezing his marrow, and he draws his knees to his chest with a shudder.
They have taken everything from him. Sirius can no longer remember the shade of Lily's eyes or which hand James always used to mess his hair up. He can no longer remember the way fresh air had tasted when his feet hit the pavement outside his childhood prison the day he ran like hell and never looked back or the sound of the Invisibility Cloak dragging across the ground whenever the four of them would sneak out.
No. All those things blur and fade like a photograph taken out of focus, and he cannot touch them.
But he still tastes Remus- the hint of chocolate on the other boy's tongue mixing with the tobacco lingering on Sirius' breath. He still feels those lips, so awkward and unsure, against his own.
It's enough to keep him wanting more. Even if Remus hates him and thinks that he is a traitor. Even if Sirius knows that he can never explain the truth, that Remus wouldn't want to listen anyway.
He's still drawn to Remus. And nothing can change that, not even the hell he's in now and the bitter cold that threatens to steal every last piece of him.