Warnings: Slight language, SLASH (Remus/Sirius)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Stumble by Elise
"You could've had it all, Sirius. But not anymore. It's not yours to have. It's too fucking late now."
Cutting through the stifling air, Remus' voice is an icy blade, melting, the droplets running down the handle in a mockery of blood and tears. He glares, unblinking and dispassionate, lips firmly shut as if he had never uttered a word.
The blood is roaring in his ears, so loudly that he cannot hear, let alone think. He can almost feel a shot of pain through his ear drums; they are so unaccustomed to hearing that lovely voice full of anger He feels a rush of vertigo, and would have opened his mouth to protest, but for the contents of his stomach churning furiously about.
His expression gradually changes from shell-shocked to one of resignation and dull aching. His chance had expired long ago. He had known this, but had forged ahead blindly, ever the courageous fool who acted yesterday and regretted tomorrow. He had always been one step behind himself.
He turns, strangely jittery, with quick hands and slow feet. He trips over himself as he exits the room.
&.
//"Sirius, c'mere a second, would you?" Remus sounded uncommonly self- conscious, nerves shaking his smooth voice almost imperceptibly, glossed over by a forced smile that should have been carefree.
Curious, Sirius looked up from his Potions homework to meet Remus' eyes before blinking and rising from his chair in the Common Room. He made his way over to Remus and promptly dropped on his lap, all too-bright grins and flashing white teeth.
He lost his balance as Remus abruptly pushed him off, and, when he looked up, Remus was halfway between apologetic and irritated. Sirius offered a tentative half-smile, but said nothing and didn't move from him position on the floor.
Remus began to talk, voice whispery and rushing, halting at random words, then continuing like a river that had been dammed. Sirius listened, but he wouldn't believe. His ears absorbed the promises Remus made, and twisted and distorted them before they reached his brain. He couldn't accept something he had imagined in so many scenarios as the truth. He had never been given anything; instead, he toiled and earned anything and everything he had possessed. No one would ever give him their heart freely, not even -especially?- his closest friend. If he were to ever receive a gift such as this, he would have to //do// something, at the very least.
Choking over the words, he muttered, "You can't," and stood up shakily. He could not bear to hear the reply, and his ears were poisoned by the words of love and forever and "you, always you." He left without a destination, only aiming for *away.* His feet felt like blocks of lead, and it was all he could do to keep from falling and never rising again.//
&.
It's too late. Sirius can't help but let that little spark of hope live on in his heart, but his pulse beating through his body runs a steady mantra of *too late, too late.* And even now, his thoughts are plagued with could- have-beens and maybes, halfway-to-heavens and what-ifs.
The pain is very nearly physical. His chest feels so constricted he has justified fears for the wellbeing of his heart, and every time he inhales, he feels imaginary shards of glass in his larynx.
He wants to scream, and wishes he could cry, or stop the flow of thoughts flooding his head, but it's *over.* It's over before it even started, and the cause can be traced directly back to him. The door of opportunity is forever locked, and he lost his chance for a key a long time ago. His heart was running a risky race, but his feet could never keep up.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Stumble by Elise
"You could've had it all, Sirius. But not anymore. It's not yours to have. It's too fucking late now."
Cutting through the stifling air, Remus' voice is an icy blade, melting, the droplets running down the handle in a mockery of blood and tears. He glares, unblinking and dispassionate, lips firmly shut as if he had never uttered a word.
The blood is roaring in his ears, so loudly that he cannot hear, let alone think. He can almost feel a shot of pain through his ear drums; they are so unaccustomed to hearing that lovely voice full of anger He feels a rush of vertigo, and would have opened his mouth to protest, but for the contents of his stomach churning furiously about.
His expression gradually changes from shell-shocked to one of resignation and dull aching. His chance had expired long ago. He had known this, but had forged ahead blindly, ever the courageous fool who acted yesterday and regretted tomorrow. He had always been one step behind himself.
He turns, strangely jittery, with quick hands and slow feet. He trips over himself as he exits the room.
&.
//"Sirius, c'mere a second, would you?" Remus sounded uncommonly self- conscious, nerves shaking his smooth voice almost imperceptibly, glossed over by a forced smile that should have been carefree.
Curious, Sirius looked up from his Potions homework to meet Remus' eyes before blinking and rising from his chair in the Common Room. He made his way over to Remus and promptly dropped on his lap, all too-bright grins and flashing white teeth.
He lost his balance as Remus abruptly pushed him off, and, when he looked up, Remus was halfway between apologetic and irritated. Sirius offered a tentative half-smile, but said nothing and didn't move from him position on the floor.
Remus began to talk, voice whispery and rushing, halting at random words, then continuing like a river that had been dammed. Sirius listened, but he wouldn't believe. His ears absorbed the promises Remus made, and twisted and distorted them before they reached his brain. He couldn't accept something he had imagined in so many scenarios as the truth. He had never been given anything; instead, he toiled and earned anything and everything he had possessed. No one would ever give him their heart freely, not even -especially?- his closest friend. If he were to ever receive a gift such as this, he would have to //do// something, at the very least.
Choking over the words, he muttered, "You can't," and stood up shakily. He could not bear to hear the reply, and his ears were poisoned by the words of love and forever and "you, always you." He left without a destination, only aiming for *away.* His feet felt like blocks of lead, and it was all he could do to keep from falling and never rising again.//
&.
It's too late. Sirius can't help but let that little spark of hope live on in his heart, but his pulse beating through his body runs a steady mantra of *too late, too late.* And even now, his thoughts are plagued with could- have-beens and maybes, halfway-to-heavens and what-ifs.
The pain is very nearly physical. His chest feels so constricted he has justified fears for the wellbeing of his heart, and every time he inhales, he feels imaginary shards of glass in his larynx.
He wants to scream, and wishes he could cry, or stop the flow of thoughts flooding his head, but it's *over.* It's over before it even started, and the cause can be traced directly back to him. The door of opportunity is forever locked, and he lost his chance for a key a long time ago. His heart was running a risky race, but his feet could never keep up.