They watched him drink his pain away, little at a time. But he never could get drunk enough to get her off of his mind. Until that night. - Whiskey Lullaby by Brad Paisley
Sirius had always love red hair. Always. He hated his hair color, the color black, because it was his surname and black hair was just so... Unattractive. Of course, he made it out that he loved his hair, he was Sirius Black, the biggest player Hogwarts had ever seen.
And he hated it. The only person he'd ever really liked was a fiery red-head, but his best friend was in love with her, so she was out of bounds. He supposed he'd never really gotten over it, but he bestmanned to their wedding.
He smothered himself in other women, tried to ignore her fleeting glances towards him. He couldn't get drunk enough to forget their stolen kisses in broomclosets. He would probably always have her green eyes imprinted in his mind, unforgettable they were. Unforgettable.
He had always been a bit jealous of James. He had a nice, loving family. He had great friends. And now, he the girl. The girl that he had admired since first year, really. Because he had been eleven, hormones raging, he had thought he was in love. She was more beautiful than his cousin Bellatrix, and that was saying something.
He just wanted to be next to her, even now. He wished he'd never befriended James sometimes, because if he hadn't Lily would've been allowed. But James was his bestfriend and despite the fact that he had that thought often, he dismissed it as fast as he could.
He wasn't quite aware of the fact that the redhead felt the same.
She of course, begged to differ. On most of her opinions, she'd always loved black hair. It was mysterious, it was dangeruous, it was attractive. She blamed James, a lot of the time. She blamed him for the fact that Sirius never really looked at her the same. He used to look at her like, like she was the most brilliant thing he'd ever seen.
Sometimes she wished that he would take her into a broom closet again, and just kiss her like he used to. But he even avoided touching her when he'd found out that she was marrying his bestfriend. She wanted to be happy, she really did. It was her wedding day, she had every reason to be happy.
But as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, her in her white dress and prepped up hair. She wanted to curl into a ball and just cry because James would never be Sirius and she'd have to live with the guilt that she was forever going to wish he were.
James would never know, he could go on thinking that she loved him and only him, that he would forver be hers, and that she would forever be his. No need to crush his fairytale, or his dreams, was there? It was never going to change, let him believe she was happpy.
She got married, she synced her laugh with Sirius', she made herself happy.
She fell pregnant. But she worried, because her and Sirius, they were so much more than a fling. She worried that the child might bear resemblence to him. He didn't even know yet, he didn't know she was pregnant, she had been avoiding him.
And he had noticed, oh he noticed. He didn't push, he never pushed. It all rested on her, because as James was his bestfriend, he was her husband. He wanted nothing more than to go over and confront her, it wasn't really until he recieved James' owl that he realized that she was scared because she was pregnant and didn't know if it was James' child.
He supposed he should be worried too, but he really wasn't. Maybe he wanted it to look like him, because then James would go away and she could be his. But he knew that wouldn't happen because chances were one and a million.
That made him want to go mad because James always got everything Sirius had ever wanted. He didn't want to think that, because James was like his brother and he gave Sirius so much of what he had. And he was grateful, he was. But he just wanted Lily, that's all he wanted anymore. That's all he wanted.
She died the night after they made up. She died on halloween night, he held her body and sobbed. Then begged Hagrid to give him Harry, but he didn't so Sirius gave him his bike to help.
He tried to get revenge, but it never really happened. Because Peter lived and Sirius went to Azkaban where every happy thought he'd ever had was just gone.
The day he died, he was drunk. He'd drunk to much whiskey, and he allowed his cousin to kill him, allowed himself to fall through the veil, where a crying Lily with open arms welcomed him.
xxxxx
And the angels sang a whiskey lullaby,
lalalalalalala, lalalalalalala, lalalalalalala