Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
.
He's gorgeous, he is.
.
A kind of old fashioned beauty that reminds you of Kings and Queens, Dukes and Duchesses, silver wrought spoons and silk.
.
His hair...it's as black as night, long and dark. It runs like silk through your fingers and shines a high gloss no matter how long it's been since he washed.
.
.
.
There's something about him, something wrong that you can never quite put your finger on.
.
It's like he's too close to perfection, that level of flawlessness that humans beings aren't supposed to meet, or even come close to, but he's always flirting with, dancing on that delicate line.
Teetering between the two extremes.
.
Perfect and…not.
.
.
.
It's nighttime when he's happiest, midnight to be precise. The darkest time, when the backdrop is pitch black and the stars are the only light in the sky.
The witching hour.
Sometimes, when the moon is out and glowing...he glows too. Perfect flawless skin glinting, the shadows falling too crisply, too sharply on his warped body.
.
He's all sharp angles and lines. Ribs jutting out, cheekbones you could cut yourself on, long shapely limbs and thin delicate fingers. He was made to look at, not to touch...but you could never help touching him.
.
His face is so innocent looking, but he's really not an innocent boy.
In any way shape or form.
You would know.
.
He's told you, making your blood boil and your heart race, he's told you things. You're eyes would tear up and you'd have to hide your face because men don't cry, and he never cried, but sometimes you think maybe he should, maybe you should.
You should cry for him.
And when you can't hide the tears anymore and his voice is raw from talking for so long you do cry for him.
Only, you can't tell if he appreciates it or not.
.
It always at night when he comes to you, so different from the sunlight. Everything is different at night and he is no exception.
Things are more frightening at night. Darkness creeping in every corner, threatening to suck you in and never let you go.
He sucked you in and never let you go...or did you never let him go?
.
Did you know? His eyes glow at night.
.
In the dark, when it's so black that you can't see your own hand in front of your face his eyes glow, staring out at you, screaming out at you to look at him, really look.
Two liquid silver orbs, swirling and shimmering with unspoken words, unexpressed emotion that would never dare show its face in the sunlight.
.
They don't change color either, his eyes. Your's do, depending on the day. Sometimes they're more green, sometimes more brown, but always golden and shining.
.
His eyes are always gray, but so light a gray that they look unreal. Remus once said he had husky eyes, like a dog. Its inhuman looking and it used to scare you when you were younger, before you really knew him, before you figured out that he was only bordering on human.
.
It's only when you really look at him that you see how wrong he truly is. Because humans aren't meant to look like this.
.
And it's scary how perfectly his face works together.
.
It always makes you laugh a little when you see it. Because you kind of have to look without looking, and it's so hard to see, but sometimes you catch a glimpse and it's awful.
.
You think it's funny how people are always so surprised when he opens his mouth and everything just comes out wrong, because people expect him to be perfect...but perfection can't be reached.
And really, he's about as close to it as anyone can get, which means that something has to be wrong with him somewhere...
.
.
.
Only it's on the inside, where he's ruined. Where he's torn and destroyed.
.
.
.
Inside Sirius is an awful place, that you never want to see, but can never look away from.
.
You don't know how it happened, or why...but somehow he gave you the key. He gave you permission to see him, all of him.
As he honestly and truly is.
.
It's ugly, it is.
.
He's ugly on the inside, but you know he's not really. The world just made him like this.
.
He doesn't think so. He likes to tell you you're wrong, but you know you're not. He likes to tell you he's an awful person, that he deserves to die, to burn in hell for all eternity.
He hates himself, but you love him.
.
Except you're not sure you love him enough, though you really don't think it's possible to love him any more, because you love him so much, with every fiber of your being.
Your entire heart and soul is dedicated to him and you know...you just know that the only reason you are here, on this earth, breathing this air and living in this world is because of him.
.
You are so afraid that he's going to leave you. Not like that, because he would never dream of leaving you like that, he loves you too much, depends on you too much...no, you're afraid he's going to die...
.
He has always says he's going to die young...and you believe him.
You honestly don't think he'll live much longer and it scares you.
Because you need him, and even though you know he needs you so much more, because you're so vitally important to his survival. You know that if he dies, he certainly won't need you anymore and you're not sure how you can live without him...if you can live without him.
.
Ever since you met him, you knew there was something wrong. Something off.
.
You could see it, but you couldn't. Because he looked so perfect when you stared at him in that train compartment the first day you met, but it was only when your eyes were blurred with sleep and contentment that you saw that faint fuzzy outline of revolting perfection around him.
.
He was perfect, but flawed because of that perfection.
.
It was the perfection that ruined him, or maybe it was just him that ruined. Maybe he was ruined from the beginning, ever since he was born. Maybe it was written in his genetic code, that he was perfectly...imperfect.
.
You really didn't know, or care honestly. He may have been perfect, or not. It had never mattered and it would never matter.
.
He was your best friend, your soulmate, your life.
.
.
.
And you loved him with everything you had, perfect or not.
.
.
.