He collapsed into the chair. It sunk beneath him, emitting the slightest squeak. The only sound in an empty, lonely house
His eyelids closed, letting himself sink deeper into the chair. It was a moth-eaten thing. A large cut ran along the arm, mirroring a cut on his own arm. One open. One healed.
He had permeated the room. Of course he had. Nothing could be near Sirius Black without being saturated by him, a ghost of him would forever remain in the object. That was part of his nature, to be infectious. Be it his enthusiasm, his sense of humour, or simply the inherent grace of his movements. These things had dimmed towards the end, buried under years of grey in Azkaban, then by being stuck in the rotting grandeur of his own house.
The bed was unmade, as was to be expected. Most people would say it looked slept in. But Remus knew otherwise. Sirius never truly slept in this bed, he merely collapsed on it when his body could take no more. Even then, he never slept under the covers. He would lay there, full clothed as he sank into exhausted rest. Remus knew that Sirius woke up no more rested than when he first sank into unconciousness. His body may have rested, but his mind never did.
A half empty Firewhiskey bottle stood on a bedside cabinet amongst letters from Harry. Sirius had kept all of them, but they were strewn about. His letters and his whiskey, the two most important things for Sirius. Remus reached out for the bottle, but sinking into the heavy weight of oblivion didnt hold the appeal it once had. It would make him forget, and the thought of forgetting Sirius struck him with a stab in the stomach. Although missing him was causing him pain, each stab was dear to him as it was a reminder, a tribute to the man who had loved him like a brother, who looked past the outside, and into the essence of things.
And he supposed that was the essence of Sirius, a willigness to accept. But he was gone, no-one would accept him like Sirius had. He was alone once more. Alone in this house of closed curtains, locked doors & dusy walls.
Note: I wasnt sure whether to end it here or not. I liked this as an end point, but there was a bit more that I felt could be written. So guys, can you tell me if you prefer that as an end point, or the rest of it. Note over.
Lost in a reverie of his own thoughts he didnt notice the door open. He didnt notice a pair of Doc Marten clad feet draw closer to him, However, he did notice the sound of the same feet stumbling over a magazine, then falling.
Wearyness filled his body as he rose out of the chair. A name escaped his cracked lips, and for once she didnt protest at it, so he wrapped his arms around her. A sob shook her body, and Remus was reminded of holding a baby bird, such a delicate thing of beauty, and he was torn between the urge to keep her safe, but also fear of harming her. As he felt the bones in her back shake his resolve started to crumble, and he let a single shake rack his body. But then it was back, he was firm, and strong, for she needed him to be strong. He would remain stoic, not for himself, but for others.
Even as he repeated this mantra to himself a thought flitted through his head. Perhaps the essence of sirius wasnt lost, for the perhaps the girl he held beneath him had it too.