because you speak to me in words and I look at you with feelings
.
.
She sucks in the smoke deep in her lungs, remembers all the warnings but doesn't care. She holds it trapped inside, resisting the urge to cough it out, and blows it in slow circles. It's way past curfew, but she does not care. She needs to feel the coldness of the air, and the danger of holding the smoke in her lungs until her body screams for oxygen. She needs to feel alive, she needs her heart to beat rapidly against her chest for something different than news of death and destruction.
He is stomping; anger and loneliness coming off him in waves. He shivers in the cold, though he does not halt his determinated stride across the Qudditich pitch; a place of glory for him, a place of letting go of everything and just revelling in the strong wind threatening to throw him off his broom, and the thrill that racks his body every time the bat connects with a bludger.
This makes him think of James. James, his best friend - his brother, rather. James is angry at him with no signs of ever forgiving him for his mistake. And boy, does he regret it. Snivellus, the slimy git, deserved everything he got for snooping around and shoving his nose where it didn't belong but James, always so noble, always so forgiving and chivalrous, ready to sacrifice himself for someone who detested the mere mention of his name - James doesn't agree, doesn't understand, and James is angry.
Remus is disappointed, hurt but most of all betrayed. It hurts Sirius to know this, to realise he has caused it, because Sirius bleeds loyalty, he screams it, broadcasts it proudly.
He misses his friends.
She hears him before she sees him. She wonders if he realises the angry sounds he's making as he walks, mutters too quick and quiet for her to understand but enough to know he is distressed. She inhales a new dose of smoke, smiles and waits for him to notice her.
It doesn't take long. She is sitting on the grass, cross legged and surrounded by smoke and her Gryffindor scar is wrapped around her neck tightly. He sees his shoulders tense for a moment, but then he seems to recognise her and relax. His stride changes to her and before she knows it, he is sitting beside her and reaching for he cigarette.
"You all right, McKinnon?" He asks, sucks in, throws his head back and stares at the stars.
"Fantasic, Black," She replies, taking her cigarette back. "Bad dreams?"
"No worse than reality," his reply is quick and heavy. She lays down on her back, her dark hair spreading around her and she glances at him. Sirius is anger and rebellion and everything he isn't supposed to be but is and she is drawn ot it.
"Well," she blinks. "Can't argue,"
He smirks. "And what are you doing out here, McKinnon? Did you have a fight with Kulinski?"
Marlene snorts, because she and Ivan never fight. She has him wrapped around her little finger and the way he bends to her will without question is a little unnerving but convinient. Marlene doesn't like complicated but lately, with the war brewing outside the halls of the school, and their enemies walking within the walls coyly playing innocent but not fooling anyone who knows better - it is all too complicated to play this game of cat and mouse with the Slytherins. It is all too complicated to know that once they leave Hogwarts, it will no longer be just a game.
This is the reason Marlene spends her nights outside, indulging in an unhealthy habit in attempt to escape the reality in which she is numb and breezes through because it is too hard to think about.
Silence falls between them but they know each other well enough for it not to be awkward. They finish the cigarette together, and once it's over, Sirius stands up and offers her a hand. She looks at him questioningly, but he only wiggles his finger impatiently and raises his eyebrows. She rolls her eyes but takes his hand and he hoists her up quickly, too suddenly, and she crashes into his chest.
She is all too aware of the electricity that jolts her entire body. His grey eyes burn through her and they speak more to her than words can. He is angry and lonely, and she is scared and she wants to feel alive for something that doesn't make her sad, and when he tangles his hand in her hair and kisses her fervently, she wraps her legs around his torso in a painful grip and kisses him back until she can't breathe and her body screams for oxygen.
His touch is desperate, rough and passionate, and it's nothing she has experienced before. She fights back just as hard, bites and scratches and pulls his hair.
He is lonely and she's scared, and the anger makes them rough, but it's safe and wild and wonderful.
Marlene closes her eyes, arches her back, and thinks of nothing else but Sirius Black.