Authors Note: Just a one shot that was lying around my desktop waiting to be shown the light of day. Title was the hardest for this story!
May be a platonic relationship, might be more.... up to you, the reader really!
Thanks again to my lovely beta who knows just what to say! x
And also thanks to Liam for the title! x
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the owner, creator etc. I'm just an avid fan of the stories and the characters...
My bones are reforming. My flesh ripped and torn. My muscles are aching, stretched and deformed as they try to reform to their natural shape. Every bone is breaking, just so that they can mend again.
My flesh won't mend like my bones. Small pools of blood are soaking into the crisp white sheets of the infirmary. I am faintly aware of a half-hearted apology escape my parched, chapped lips. Madam Pomfrey shushes me and continues to tend to my gapping wounds.
I am acutely aware of an other presence. I get a glimpse of blue eyes and black hair. I try to put on a brave face but I fail miserable as I feel the pain in the pit of my stomach as it raises through my body to be release as a desperate scream. I beg for him to help me...to take the pain away but I know he can't stop this. A silent mantra is repeated in my mind. 'Please let me die... please let me die...'
As if he can read my mind, Sirius clasps my own hand. He squeezes it tightly. A whisper of hope flutters past my ear. 'It'll be over soon Remus, you'll be ok... I'm here...' he only calls me Remus when he's worried, but he doesn't realise it, so I know I can't believe him...
It is something that won't just go away with time, if anything its gotten harder. I wonder does he know. I wonder if he realises that without him my life wouldn't be worth living. Without his friendship, without his love, without his wild sense of fun I'd have no reason to live. I want to voice these thoughts, cause I feel that he needs to know this, but I can't.
The pain begins to ebb away and a fog comes over my vision as I drift into an uneasy sleep, my hand still in Sirius' hand, my hazelnut eyes on his icy blue orbs. I know that Madam Pomfrey doesn't ask him to leave because the sentence 'You have to leave him rest.' doesn't register in the mind of Sirius Black. And I'm eternally grateful for it.
I woke up roughly six hours later, the sun peeking in through the windows casting the crisp white room with an ethereal glow. The harshness of the bright light and the the stench of cleanliness is something I hate. That antiseptic, sterile smell that is basking in a pure white light... It's completely opposite to me. I am under no illusions as to who and what I am. My friends would argue this... but I never say it to them, whether its to avoid an argument or to avoid dashing whatever ideas they have about me... I don't know. All I do know is that I have to be strong for them as well as for myself...
Sirius is still sitting by my bed with a book in his hand (a book which i notice is cleverly disguised), a look of mischief that is permanently etched on his face... a half-brained notion of adventure that he just can't wait to tell me... and this is why I need him most of all.
Authors Note: There you have it. Reviews appericated!
x