Difference
~ Marlene McKinnon and Sirius Black ~
The rain collides against the glass, with a loud noise and the raindrops race down to the end of the window.
Marlene's fingers touch the glass; it's cold. The whole apartment is cold. The radiator is broken. Again.
He looks at her, over his shoulder, before bending down and grabbing a pair of pants and a shirt.
The shirt is white, tight and small so he coughs loudly to get her attention.
She turns around slightly before she catches the shirt by one sleeve and snags it over her head, pulling down at the end to make it cover more than it's supposed to, because she has no idea where her skirt ended.
He pulls his pants up lazily, one leg at a time and then buttons them shut, staring at her the whole time, but she has turned to the window again.
"It's cold in here." he mutters, running a hand through his black hair.
She shrugs, not turning around. "Radiator is broken again." she replies, "But its not too bad." she adds, ignoring the goosebumps that have formed on her legs and arms.
He rolls his, but she doesn't catch it. "Seen my shirt?"
"Seen my skirt?"
He chuckles silently, but doesn't respond.
After a minute of just watching her silently stare out the window - she does that a lot, he has noticed - he walks towards her, barely making a noise when his feet touch the floor, but he is pretty sure she knows he's coming closer.
He brushes his hand over the pattern that the cold has formed on her legs. "Not cold, huh?" he smirks slightly, leaning his head towards her ear.
"Not too cold." she responds, her eyes fixed on the window, but she barely notices what is out there anymore.
"Right." he chuckles again, and it angers her, the feeling of mockery annoyes her quickly and she turns around.
"Why are you still here?" her eyebrow raise, and her voice is hard, but she's curious.
He shrugs. "Do you want me to check on that radiator? See if I can fix-" his sentence is cut short by her laughter.
"You?" now mockery fills her voice, as she gives him a look. "If my magic can't fix it, yours cant either."
"Why cant yours fix it?"
She shrugs. "It's an old magical radiator thats been in the family for years, it's had its part of life. It's dead now," she grins slightly. "But then again, it always kicks back into gear every now and then."
He looks at her, raising eyebrows and wondering when she turned out… this way. She was always strong but she never dared to mock him, she was always smaller in his arms. But she doesn't seem so small anymore.
"Does it affect you?"
She raises her eyebrows, taking a step back before leaning against the window, trying to look not affected when the cold glass touches her thin-clothed back.
"The cold?"
"The war."
Both of them roll their eyes at the other.
"Why?" she's curious again.
He gives her a look. "It would be weird if it didn't."
"Has it changed you?"
"Do you think it has?"
"Yes." she decides.
"How?"
"You're shagging random women a lot less." she replies, a smile tugging at her lips.
"I'm still shagging you."
"It's still different."
"You're different."
She gives him a look, raising an eyebrow at him. "How?"
"You just are. You're tougher, but at the same time, more dead."
"Dead." She replies, turning her attention at the window again. "Thats what they all are aren't they? Dorcas and Benjy and Gideon and Fabian."
"We're not dead."
"You just said I was dead."
"You're numb." he corrects himself. "Not nearly as alive as you were in school."
"You mean I've grown up." she corrects him, frowning.
"Grow back down."
She groans, shaking her head at him.
He grins.
"You need to grow up, Black."
"This is how I know you, McKinnon."
"Shut up."
He grins again. "Do I ever?"
She sighs, shaking her head again as she turns to him. "What if we do die?"
He gives her a look. "We wont."
She says nothing but after a moment she nods. "Okay." but she isn't sure if she believes him.
He looks at her for a second, before he turns around and walks towards the bed, grabs a blanket and then walks back towards her.
"You need a new radiator McKinnon." he chuckles as he wraps the blanket around her shoulders.
She smiles at him, but only slightly, and decides that maybe she should just believe him.
a/n: Once again in Icelandic class, thought it was time for another short story. Tell me whatcha think?