sirius/marlene
those are the days he lives for
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written for: rach, (she'sasiriusriot). because i love her, and i miss her, and bro, we're so crazy and longwinded that i don't even know where to begin, just know that i love her and it's all for her that i'm writing this terrible fic.
;)
merry belated christmas, and have a freaking grand 2012, babe.
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disclaimer: I don't own it.
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He's kind of the worst thing that's ever happened to her, but she learns to cope.
It's not like she's got much of a choice in the matter, anyway — she doesn't really have a say in anything when it comes to him, and him & her and whether that makes them a 'we' or an 'us', or maybe just something indefinable because it wasn't really meant to happen in the first place.
And then some days, it hurts like her sides are being ripped by some invisible claws — thanks for that, Marcia Lane, I really appreciate seeing you rubbing your crotch against him — and that her chest is being hammered like the rain pelting down or a tribal drum — of course you made out with him, Moon, nice to know your lack of self-respect and control is still in place — and it's like everything she's ever felt good about isn't worth it, and like every single happy memory she's ever had is cheap and false, like a parlour trick — like his affections — and some days, she just wants it all to stop.
Some days, she just can't handle it.
/
There are the days where he makes her feel on top of the world, and those are the days she lives for.
Some days, he'll just ignore everyone else — sometimes even James — and he'll shoot her those charming smiles and lopsided grins that make her weak at the knees and he'll pull out her seat and carry her books and all those things he never does for anyone else — but the problem is, it doesn't mean a thing to him, and it's just paving a path of hope towards a land where my heart breaks — and it's perfect when it happens, and she tries not to think about the ways it's not, because then she gets caught up and her perfect days don't end so perfectly and she can't have that—
So she just smiles, and thanks him with a pretty blush, and prays to Merlin and the Founders that it's not a dare — in all honesty, I think about praying to the God that Mary and Remus tell me their grandparents talk about, but I don't think I can handle trying to believe in two things that probably don't exist — and that it's not a lie, and that it actually means something to him, because she doesn't have words to say how much it means to her.
Some days, she just holds on to her wishes on stars.
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He's the only person in the world that makes her feel like she's got fire in her lungs, but the smoke's the thing keeping her alive.
Some days — or more often, secluded nights — they escape into a different place from where they were and they'd be free in a way that nobody allows them to be back where they're supposed to be.
They're allowed to forget that they're two Gryffindors, and that it's a war that's hanging over their heads — a fucking death sentence — and that they're from opposite sides of the pureblood circles at first glance even though they're not — my mother was born a Greengrass, thank you very much, Mr Gryffindor-Prejudice-Against-Sirius — and that she's Marlene McKinnon and she's not meant to feel and he's Sirius Black and he's not meant to care.
Somehow, on those days, they can slip away from all that and just be Sirius and Marlene and give in to the passion that beats within their bones, part of something far more ancient than they can ever try to hope to comprehend.
So they don't and they just ride the storm and keep to the beat that seems to hum from within them.
(if she was a romantic, she might say that it came from the heart or some shit like that.
good thing she's not, right?)
Some days, she just loses herself with him.
/
There are times when her acting skills slip, and that's when people notice.
"Who is he?" they ask, with cheeky gins and curious eyes that make her want to spill everything because it gets too much sometimes, pretending that she doesn't l—
Pretending that she doesn't like him.
But she doesn't because even though she's a Gryffindor through and through, she's still a bit scared that saying it aloud will make it go away, and it's such a wispy thing anyway, as easy to hold onto as smoke, and if it goes, so do the days she lives for, and then, what is she?
So on the days where they ask her — LilyAliceMaryRemusJamesJoyceDorcasFrankPeter — she just smiles in that little way of hers, and taps her nose and distracts them — and myself — because thinking about it makes her over-analyse and doubt everything, and that's what ruins happiness, after all.
Some days, she just lies to the world.
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He's the only person that can make her walls come crashing down, and she thinks she hates him for it, almost as much as she l—
Almost as much as she likes him.
There's days where he'll be chatting to her — not like the days I live for, like the days I pretend we're only friends — and he'll laugh at something she's said and it makes her happy, but then he goes and sits next to MeganfuckingMullen and she can feel her face falling so she schools it into a neutral expression and sinks into a seat in between James and Alice.
Her head's whirring and spinning, thoughts flitting through.
Am I missing something here?
Why do you get to me? Nobody gets to me (except you).
Why does it hurt so much?
And it overwhelms her, because nobody's meant to get to her, but this boy with the grey eyes and black hair does and she starts to hate the fact that she l—
That she likes him.
Some days, she hates him.
/
There are moments where there's no point in fighting anymore.
Those are the days where she just doesn't care anymore. Those are the days where she looks at the sky and sees the stars twinkling, and asks herself, asks the stars, asks the world:
"what's the point?"
They're the days where he's off in a broom closet with some girl, and Lily and James are fighting about something that Lily uses as a metaphor for their relationship and James takes at face value, and Remus is off in the library with Mary, and Alice and Frank are being in love and Dorcas, Joyce and Peter are raiding the kitchen, and she's just there.
Wondering why she exists. Wondering why she's there.
Wondering if she's really alive, or if she's just existing in some far away world that doesn't really touch her.
Wondering if anyone else in the world is wondering the same thing, and wondering if maybe, they'd be friends if this was something else and they weren't somewhere else and if there wasn't always someone else.
Wondering if she's anyone's someone else, and if they'd ever let her know, and if they'd ever watched the stars twinkling and asked them why.
Some days, she just doesn't know.
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He's kind of the worst thing that's ever happened to her, but he's also the best.
There are the days where she just gives up on all the handling, wishing, losing, lying, hating and not knowing.
They're the days where she just gives it all up, and just admits to herself that maybe she doesn't like him.
That maybe she loves him.
They're the days where she lets herself beam every time he sends her a wink. They're the days she lets herself tease him about anything and not care if it ruins anything. They're the days where Alice and Lily start nudging her and Mary sends her those knowing smiles. They're the days where James asks Sirius loudly why he hasn't declared his love for him yet, and asking if there's somebody else while looking unabashedly at her.
They're the days where she laughs, and sits next to him on the couch and doesn't mind if he can hear how her heart beats so much faster and that she gets goose bumps when they accidentally touch.
Some days, she lets herself love him.
(she doesn't know it, but those are the days he lives for)
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a/n. so. my first marauder fic. please do review — i'm kind of nervous about this and would love to hear how you think i did — and i'd really appreciate it if you didn't favourite without reviewing. :)
thanks: zhie (nesshaw) for beta-ing.