"You say you don't want to go looking for trouble. Is that what I am? Trouble? I'm sure Molly would agree, but... I thought you knew me better than that. I don't go looking for trouble. I go looking for life, for reasons to wake up in the morning. But if you don't think that's courage-"
Sirius had to stop his quill hand before the next words made it to the parchment. He didn't want to be reduced to cursing at Remus. He balled up the parchment and threw it forcefully against the wall before stomping from the Grimmauld Place library.
-
It was well after ten o'clock in the evening when a light knock sounded on Sirius's door. "Who's there?" he asked, hoping it wasn't Harry. Sirius didn't want to see anyone, and he couldn't chase Harry away like he could anyone else.
The door creaked open a few inches and Remus poked his scarred nose through. Not until then did Sirius know he also couldn't chase Remus away; he would have if he could have. "What do you want?"
Remus held up a piece of crimped parchment. Sirius cursed inwardly, recognizing his own writing.
"You're right," Remus conceded. "I'm sorry."
"You're not sorry, you just don't like conflict."
"I don't like conflict, but I am sorry. Padfoot..."
Sirius pouted and turned towards the wall, not in the least self-conscious of the fact that he was acting like a five-year-old.
Remus was reticent to approach. The silence grew between them until at last Remus spoke. "Just... please keep finding reasons. I couldn't take it if- Just please keep finding them."
Sirius didn't turn, and Remus let himself back out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Sirius slipped, still dressed, into bed. He stared at the sconce a long time before extinguishing the light with a flick of his wand. His last thought before sleep claimed him was also his first thought in the morning: You'll be my reason today, Remus.