Soooo I haven't written on this thing for quite a while. I feel quite inspired tonight though, and this is just something I thought up while listening to The Veronicas new song "Untouched." If you haven't heard it already, I recommend it. I'm not really sure if you guys will like this, but it's just my idea of what Sirius Black in love would be like. If you like it then yay! Let me know what you think :)
Easy
I always thought I would fall in love with the boy in my dreams; charming, handsome. No girl ever imagines she will become victim to the same devastating, excruciating pleasure that they scorn and cast shameful glances at. Ashamed as I am to admit it, I have unfortunately become one half of a couple that never seems to quite make it.
Every morning, particularly those on the first day of school, as I prepare my appearance for the viewing pleasure of men, I think the same thought. I tell myself that this time, today, it will be different. It never lasts longer than an hour. And even though its painstakingly obvious, even to myself, that I could have any man I wanted based on my looks, it never seems to be enough to make me want anyone else. I'm not what you would call your typical fool in love with the most popular boy in school. I have the unpleasant misfortune of being loved in return.
Sirius black and myself are too similar to ever be together. Our relationship, if you can call it that, began in fourth year as our hormones became too much to control. It was never based on anything more than lust. We never made it awkward for each other, we were always free to do whatever or whoever we wanted. It was our friends and the schools gossip team who made things complicated. Insinuating that there were feelings involved, querying anyone who seemed to be coming between us. My friends always took a defensive approach, forcing any poor girl who approached Sirius' self esteem down so low they didn't even know it went that far. Most girls, however, tried there utmost to set me up with anyone they thought would have me. I pitied the poor girls. It never bothered me who Sirius spoke to, or who he wanted to take out his adolescent desires on. It still doesn't really. As much as I know we will never be together, I know he will always be mine.
It's not healthy for me to have such a relationship with Sirius. We both try and break away from it, for different reasons. He wants to be single, wants to have as many girls as he can in as little time as possible, which is common in seventeen year old males. I, on the other hand, don't want to be involved in something as toxic and twisted as what we have. Like all girls, I want to find a real love, no complications, nothing keeping us apart. I'm beginning to believe there is no such thing. Sirius will always be there, toying with my mind, not allowing me to love anyone as deeply as I love him. He never has, his soft whispers in my ear have been the downfall to any relationship outside ours that I have made a courageous stab at. Needless to say, he has had a few punches thrown his way by my past partners.
We have a very repetitive routine these days. I will always be the first to try and break the cycle by finding a new boyfriend, while Sirius does his utmost to prevent it. The longest relationship I've had has been three months. All the time I'm with my new partner, Sirius will constantly corner me, drive me crazy with his subtle innuendo and belittle my poor boy whenever the opportunity arises. As is predictable, all this results in a loud, and sometimes violent fight between the two egos in which I am forced to choose. I always opt for the easy option and say I choose neither. But its guaranteed that no more than two days later Sirius will have bent me to his will yet again.
However, I would hate to fool you into thinking that Sirius is the bad guy in all this. That couldn't be further from the truth; we have both done our utmost to hurt each other, pushing each others feelings so far over the limit, sometimes just to get a reaction, however small. While he destroys all my relationships, I play on his, making it clear to him that it doesn't affect me in the slightest which blonde airhead he is trying to deflower each week. It drives him crazy that he can't make me rise to jealousy. Our vicious routine always ends in a tearful "break-up", if you can call it that. We agree to go our separate ways, stay away from each other and try to control our animalistic desires.
Evidently, it never works. Every time we try to get away from each other, its like we can't. We can never avoid each others glances in class, which leads to "harmless" small talk, which leads to mild flirting, and eventually, within a few days, we'll end up tangled in each others arms within a few days, needing each other more than ever, feeling lower than ever before. He will start holding my hand under the breakfast table, brushing the hair out of my eyes and blowing me cocky kisses across crowded rooms, just as he always does.
I know he isn't good for me, I know he never while be. And yet, every time I see him, every time I hear his name, something in my body rises. Some hidden desire comes out to sniff the distinct smell of longing. It's impossible to break my dangerous addiction. Falling back into his arms is just too easy.