I paced the floor in a fever. Raking my hands through my hair, tugging furiously at the ends. I couldn't go on like this, couldn't keep breaking her into a million pieces with my selfish, pathetic behavior. I had run out of excuses, run out of fair reasons to pick a fight. She deserved more, more than I could ever fathom giving, more than my wretched soul could abide. She deserved someone brave, someone who could hold her for the rest of her life and not be scared to death by that concept. I knew of someone worthy enough of her, but how could I even begin letting her go? How do I go about breaking her heart one last time, and then stand back to let him mend it? By breaking my own, I presume. And that was a price I was willing to pay.
I walked down the hallway, dragging my feet like a man condemned. She would not be home for a few more hours. That left me enough time to disappear. I pushed our bedroom door open slowly, wanting to take my time. I took it in, the room she'd made "ours" in every way. There were pictures lining the walls. Some still, Muggle photographs. Most moving in their frames. All smiling faces and happier times. I had to look away, feeling as though their smiles were mocking, reminding me again that I had failed. I moved to the closet, pushing aside her clothes to reach for my trunk. I could smell her in the soft cotton blouses and silk dresses. It made my stomach wrench and I had to choke back the bile threatening to burn me. I shook the nausea from my mind and threw the trunk onto the bed. Our bed. The comforter a rich, dark red. She had been so proud when she had gotten it, glowing with her achievement and the knowledge that she'd made me happy. She knew I had always loved the color red. I smiled ruefully at the memory of her crawling onto that comforter and pulling me down with her. Every innocent façade shattered between fingertips and moans.
Remember all the things we wanted,
Now all our memories, they're haunted.
We were always meant to say goodbye…
I packed my belongings quickly, unable to take much more. I would miss her more than I could ever let on. But I had to do this. I had to give her a chance at something real. At a relationship that wasn't built on hollowed out emotions and pain. I had warned her in the beginning that I was not a man worthy of her love. But she was a stubborn one. "I can very well determine myself what is and is not worthy of such. Do not tell me otherwise." Her eyes had been so fierce that I could only smile, taking her into my arms and kissing her passionately. She had made me love her in that moment. But I should have known that it would only end in heartache.
I am a broken man. I've been crushed by the cruel twists of fate time and time again. I have known what it is to lose everything, what it is to be broken in body and spirit. One does not fully come back from that. One never can. And she deserved someone full of life, who had the will to make it work. It had been the topic of many a fight. Fights that had built over time; beginning with heated words and glares and moving into ripping screams and broken possessions. I could not keep making her live this way. No matter how many times we forgave and ended back within each others embrace, trailing lips and heat across one another, it just was not worth her becoming bitter in the end.
Even with our fists held high,
It never would have worked out right.
We were never meant for do or die…
I took one final glance around the room, biding it goodbye. I went to the kitchen next, deciding to numb as much of the pain as I could. I found the bottle in the cabinet where she had left it. I did not bother with a glass, all formality lost in my quiet isolation. I reared the bottle back and drank deeply. The way it burned and ached dulled the rest of my senses, dulling my hurt for only a few moments. I slammed the bottle onto the counter top. It was half empty at that point. Or half full as she would have speculated. I felt a dry sob heaving through my chest and I held it in as long as I could before it escaped. That was all I afforded myself. That one gesture of remorse alone in the dark room.
What kind of coward was I to leave in the dark of the night? A bloody sorry one. We had fought again the night before. Had screamed and stabbed with angry words, relentless and unable to admit our own faults. I had been distant again, I hadn't spoken to her in days and she had finally had enough. "Is it me? Do you not love me anymore?" I had laughed at her words, because how could I ever stop loving her? "You need to get over yourself at some point! You need to grow up and take responsibility for more than just yourself! I am so sick and tired of the fraud smiles and the listless behavior. I know you've been dealt a terrible hand in the last nineteen years but really, the war is over, you're free to live as you please, and all you do is mope! I can't keep living like this!"
She had screamed at me, shedding unabashed tears and throwing herself into a chair, cradling her face in her hands. I had been a selfish prick, defending my reasons and my pathetic excuses. I had made her out to be the over abrasive bitch, yelling that I could not live like this any longer. As every other time, we ended up taking our anger out physically, until the fire stopped scorching and merely burned underneath. We had collided in such passion and need and want that I had been knocked into oblivion. And when I awoke in the middle of the night to pull her nearer to me, I was torn to shreds when my eyes found her hunched in the chair in the corner. Shaking in quiet sobs, her arms wrapped around her legs, knees pulled tight to hold herself together. No, I could not live like this any longer. And neither could she.
I put the bottle back into the cabinet before turning and walking into the lounge. I lit a fire in the hearth and watched it burn. I knew where I would go. I could honestly go anywhere now. I felt a tug in my chest and knew that really, I did not want to be anywhere but here. But she deserved so much better, and even if it broke me, I would show her that. I had seen the way he looked at her over the years. Seen the way he'd stepped aside, always the one to sacrifice his own happiness, when I had so selfishly laid claim to her. He had not begrudged me, and I had held that in the highest regards. I would repay him that, would give him the proper chance he had never gotten. I watched the embers dance and slowly flicker in the fireplace. I was stalling, I knew. I was hoping, in some sick and twisted way that she'd come home and catch me in the act. Stop me from leaving and we'd end up back in that bedroom where everything began and ended. I was such a fool.
I didn't want us to burn out.
I didn't come here to hurt you now.
I can't stop…
I stepped up to the fire, gripping my trunk tightly in my hand. I could have shrunk it, eased the weight and put it into my pocket. But I didn't. I needed to feel it there, to feel its weight against my leg and in my muscles and accept what I was doing. I took a deep breath but could not take a step forward. Not yet. I couldn't walk away without leaving something. Some sort of apology to help her mend. I could accept her hating me, even at my hearts expense. But I could not let her come home to an empty house and harbor a hope that I would return. I put my trunk back on the floor and marched into the study. I inhaled the smell of parchment and time, taking in the sight of her massive collection of books just one more time. I went to her desk and grabbed a pen and quill.
I did not know how to say what I was doing. How to make her understand that this was not her fault, not her wrong; it was mine. But I wouldn't dare scribble down such a cliché. I wanted her to accept this, to feel it in every fiber of her being that this is how it had to end. We were never meant to be this way, to be with each other so completely. It was not fair to either of us to keep trying to play this out. I dipped the quill into the small bottle of ink she always kept open and penned my last goodbye.
Dearest,
I want you to know that it doesn't matter where we take this rode, someone's got to go. And I want you to know that you couldn't have loved me better. But I want you to move on…so I'm already gone.
-Sirius
With that I walked back towards our bedroom door and slid the parchment underneath it. She would find it soon enough. I dragged myself back into the lounge. Picking up my trunk and taking that step into the fire.
……
I took a deep breath and stepped into the fire. I spun for a few moments, making sure to keep my elbows tucked tightly to my sides. I had been gone for almost a year now. I had heard how angry she was, how hurt. Harry had come after me, threatening to drag me back by force if he had to. But he didn't. I had let him know my reasons why, and he had merely nodded. He had hugged me and walked away. I bided my time for months, waiting to hear the inevitable news. And it had come. It was delivered by owl in the middle of the night and I had been both relieved and wrecked with the words written carefully on the paper. I stepped through the fireplace at the Burrow, greeted almost instantaneously with Molly Weasley and Harry at the same time.
"How have you been, Sirius? I've really missed you, you know. No more going away for so long next time," Harry said, hugging me tight and slapping his hand across my back for emphasis.
"I had my reasons, but I'm happy to be back. Look at you! You're grinning like a loon!" and he was. He was almost glowing with happiness, and I felt the familiar wrench in my gut. I did my best to smile back as I was pushed into the cramped living room. It was full of familiar faces, all gathered for the grand event. I searched for her, but did not see her among the smiles and the bodies rushing to greet me. I was pulled toward the couch and pushed down into it. Trying to keep up with the words being hurled at me from every direction.
"Where have you been, Sirius? We were starting to think you'd fallen off the face of the earth!" I laughed at Ron and told them of my stay in Whales. I had lived in a modest flat in a small wizarding community and had found it a most welcome experience.
"You look healthier, Padfoot. More like your old self," Remus quietly stated from the corner of the room, his arm wrapped tightly around his wife, Nemphadora. I had been thrilled to hear of their marriage, and was even more thrilled at the sight of her protruding stomach. I raised an eyebrow at him and he blushed faintly, pulling her even closer.
"I feel better than I have in almost twenty years. A new man," I grinned
"A new man, indeed," her voice said, drifting to me from somewhere behind. I turned violently in my seat, anticipation eating away at my cool disposition. She was descending the stairs; her hand calmly clutching the railing as she moved. Her hair was let down, framing her face in soft curls and beautifully cascading down her back. It was much longer than I remembered it. Her eyes watched me warily, searching for a sign I did not know to give. I was aware how the room had grown quiet, how every breath was being held and all eyes trained on us both. The tension was overwhelming.
"You're looking good, Granger. You've got that lovely pre-wedding glow about you," I said. I plastered on my most convincing smile and she accepted it. I stood as she reached the landing and we met half way. I took her into my arms lightly, being sure to only hold on for a moment before moving away. She met my eyes and I could see something there. Something familiar. But it was washed away as Harry approached us, taking her into his side and planting a kiss on the crown of her head. The tug at my heart returned and could have crippled me if I hadn't prepared myself for that exact moment. The moment it all became real.
She looked up to him, their eyes swimming with excitement and high expectations. Of love and loyalty and admiration. Of equal passion and everything that I had not been able to give her. She had finally found it all in the boy, no—man—that she was always meant to be with in the end. I concentrated on breathing, counting each slow breath in my head to calm my nerves, all the while never breaking the wide smile on my face. She looked back at me, and her eyes held nothing familiar anymore. She smiled at me platonically and I felt the air choking me, but I did not break that smile.
"We're both so happy that you could make it, Sirius. Harry couldn't imaging getting married without his godfather present. It means the world to us both," she looked at me warmly and relief flooded through me. I nodded and took them both into a crushing hug. They were the world to me, both in their own respects, and I was happy to step aside, put away my selfishness, and let them be happy together. When the hug broke apart, the tension in the air dissipated and conversations began leaping up all over the room. I made my way back to Moony, eager to hear about the son he was expecting in only a few short weeks.
When time had passed in length and everyone was getting ready to settle down for dinner, making their way in a crowd towards the kitchen, I looked towards her. She was sitting on the arm of the couch, talking to Harry. He reached forward and took her hand, bringing it to his lips and brushing them across her knuckles. I could see the slim gold band catching the light on her finger, the humble diamond glinting as she moved her hand to lace their fingers together. The light flush that spread across her cheeks was so lovely, so epically beautiful and I had to look away.
Looking at you makes it harder,
But I know that you'll find another
Who doesn't always make you want to cry…
Dinner was a mess of noise and commotion. It comforted me after so long away. I hadn't realized just how much I had missed each and every one of them, every single person. When the dishes were cleared away and everyone full and groaning and satisfied, I excused myself from the table. I was growing tired and wanted to just go to bed. Tomorrow would be a big day, and I knew that it would take me the whole night to brace myself. To ready myself to watch her walk down that aisle, to be standing by the man she would be walking towards, to deal with the fact that it would now never be me. I bid everyone a good night and made my way up the stairs.
"Sirius…" I stopped on the second floor, losing control over my shaking hands for just a split second before turning around. She was standing a few steps below me, looking up at me intently. I was hit hard by the first time we had kissed. She had been looking at me just in that same way. With the slight raise of her left brow, her teeth biting her bottom lip just enough to cause it to turn a pale shade of almost white. She had walked those last few stairs as if possessed, on a mission and determined to follow it through. She had leaned on the tips of her toes, clutching my shoulders for support, and kissing me lightly on the lips.
It started with a perfect kiss then
We could feel the poison set in.
Perfect couldn't keep this love alive…
I closed my eyes at the memory, taking in a deep, steady breath before opening them. "Hermione." She was still standing there, the same look on her face, but this time her eyes held understanding. She let her bottom lip go and I watched as a pale pink color rushed back into it. I felt longing for a moment, but pushed it away. She walked the few steps towards me, never taking her eyes away. I watched her warily, not sure if I was ready for what may or may not happen.
She reached me in mere seconds, stepping beside me, her foot causing the stair to creak ever so slightly. She began to rise onto her toes, her hands lifting up to reach for my shoulders. When they made contact, I could feel my knees grow weak and the tiny bit of pressure she placed on them. I could feel the undercurrent of electricity pass through my veins at the contact, and I knew that I would never be able to rid myself of the way I felt for her, the way my body reacted to her touch. She pulled herself as close to me as she could, her breasts lightly brushing my chest. I shuddered involuntarily and knew that she could feel it.
Her lips pressed firmly to my cheek, lingering there for a few moments, their soft warmth spreading through every fiber of my being. She brushed her cheek against mine and wrapped her arms around my neck, tugging me into a tight embrace. I felt her breath trail a warm breeze over my neck before she whispered into my ear.
"Thank you, Sirius. I finally understand." And with that she moved away, her sudden absence ripping into me. I did not watch her walk the rest of the way up the stairs. I did not threaten to move a muscle before I heard the door to her room close with a soft click. I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering gasp before taking each heavy step to the top of the third floor. I did not turn on the light in the guest room, only made my way blindly to the bed. I crashed onto it painfully and wrapped my arms around the pillow. I let out a few more dry, heaving, quiet sobs before throwing the pillow violently across the room. I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling. I did not move until I could see the faint pinkish hue of sunrise. I loved her with every fiber of my being, but with that love, I'd had to walk away. To give her a proper future and give myself a new beginning.
I rolled over onto my side clamped my eyes closed as tightly as I could. I kept them that way until I drifted off to sleep. A lonesome, dreamless sleep.
You know that I love you so…
I loved you enough to let you go.
Fin.
Hey! I really hope that you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Given, I'm not a huge Kelly Clarkson fan, but when I heard this song, it really struck home with me somehow. And I knew I had to write something for it. If you liked this, please review! Also, if you get the chance, please read my other story To Run and review it. If it sucks let me know so I'll stop adding to it! I appreciate the support! –S.T.F.