Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…actually… pauses…I don't own anything. TT…teh tears…Ah well...this is SLASH…which means…DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ!
A/N: This is my first Harry/Sirius fic…so flames are welcome. 3 3 3 Anyways…hears the story…
Meant to Be
Sirius Black sat on his obsidian couch in "his room" at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His fingers threading through the soft strands of silk that is his lover's hair.
"Har…" He paused, unsure of how he should phrase what he was about to say, as he did not want to hurt his young lover.
"yes, Siri?" His lover's head turned and he found himself staring into a pool into startling emerald eyes. Eyes that has seen one too many death in such a short amount of time.
"I…I…" Sirius stuttered, still not sure how he should break the bad news to his lover. He loved the young man sitting by his feet with all his heart and would never dream of hurting him, but he felt he had no choice in the matter.
"What is it, Sir?" Worry was evident in his lover's voice.
"I just don't…think it's – this – is working out…" He took a deep breath and closed his eye, afraid of the reaction his lover would give him of lack of one. He just hoped the young man knew he still loved him and he always will.
When he felt the silky smoothness of his lover's hair disappear from under his touch, did he open his eyes only to find the door to his quarters close behind his heartbroken lover. A single tear escaped his eyes and dropped on to the couch his was still sitting on with an inaudible splat, as his heart bled tears of blood.
Harry Potter entered the Gryffindor common room hoping everyone was too busy to notice his tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes, but unfortunately The-Boy-Who-Lived had no such luck.
"Harry…what happened to you?" A bushy haired girl asked him, beside her stood a fiery red head with a look of concern over his features.
"Nothing, 'mione." His voice dry and cracked from all the crying he did on his way back from his lover's apartment. "I just…need some time… to be alone…" With that, Harry headed up the stairs and into his dorm room. A silent sob escaped his lips, as his mind wondered back to what his "ex" lover had said.
"I just don't…think it's working out…"
The only thoughts going through his head as he cried himself to sleep, were:
"Doesn't he love me...?"
"Did he ever love me to begin with...?"
"Was he just using me…?"
La Fine
Essere Continued…