Enjoy!
The characters and places belong to J.K.R.
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The man sat at a desk in the corner, hunched over what appeared to be a thin, worn book that was losing its pages. Pressing a quill to his lip in thought, he leaned back and contemplated the book, running a tired hand through his thick shaggy black hair. Frowning, he dropped the quill next to his ink bottle and rose.
Now that he was standing, it was quite clear that this man was of a considerable height, with broad shoulders and a thin frame. He had long shaggy hair the color of a raven's feathers, and piercing steel blue eyes. His hair flopped into his eyes quite often; a problem solved by a quick toss of his head, an action that he was obviously long used to. His eyes and mouth were surrounded by premature wrinkles, the result of a previously quick-to-laugh face gone sullen and sad. His lips were thin, and more often than not, frowning. The man wore a thing black t-shirt and jeans, having abandoned the customary wizard's robes for something more casual from the Muggle wardrobe. All in all, Sirius Black looked worn, too old for his twenty-three years; as though time had passed slowly, and had been too harsh to him.
Sirius removed an open bottle from his refrigerator and poured some red liquid into a goblet, taking it with him back to his small desk in the corner. He sipped slowly at his wine, staring out the window at the cold rainy night thoughtfully. Sitting perfectly still for a moment, he allowed the rush of oncoming memories to overtake him, transporting him to places years before. Shaking himself away from his overwhelming thoughts, he put his wine down, picked up his quill, and began to write.
I don't know why I fell in love with him...he was my best friend, a disastrous relationship waiting to happen. We were Padfoot and Prongs, that dynamic duo...the leaders of the schemers. James loved Lily. Everyone knew that. And yet...despite all of our efforts to deny our feelings for one another, to deny who we truly were...fate brought us together. Cruel fate, for it was not to be. Not then, not now. Five years have passed; that should be plenty enough time to get over him, enough time to heal my broken heart. And yet...the memories still haunt me, even today. The harder I try to block them, the harsher they become. Today was particularly bad...I remembered more than usual...such as how it all began. Today...these memories have driven me to wonder...what could have happened if it had gone differently? I am pulled into remembering again...in particular...the day I admitted to myself that I was in love with my best friend...