Torchlight burns heavy on cold stone gray, flickering with unrestrained life. Harsh orange glow bends forward, backward and twists its forced shadows against the walls. His eyes gaze upon its shimmer, letting the spell overwhelm him. Being swallowed whole isn't always a bad thing.
And now he is alone, save for the never-dying dance of flame. He never used to be so empty, back in those days before he gave in. The days before he let go of his control, reached out and felt a strand of that purest red silk. He was gone from the moment he felt the touch of her hair, and, somehow, he was lonelier after giving in. He would have thought, before, that giving everything up for someone would make you whole, and full. But not if you had to give up your best friend for that someone, he learned. He learned the hard way. Friendship for lust was not a fulfilling exchange, Sirius had discovered.
He can do nothing but wait here, hoping that he'll have the courage to do what he must. To take it all apart so he can put it back together, bring things back to where they began. He holds his breath, sucks it in and sends it whooshing out. The shallow breathing, watching the flames fall in timeless shadow, make him conscious of the endless rhythm he has created. Now he understands the steps he has danced, how these steps have finally cost him too much. The time has come for him to put an end to the dance, let go of the breath, send it into the flame to sparkle before him. Before it is much too late.
His glances linger fleetingly, then fully, on the door, hang on to the handle as if drowning. He knows he may drown if he doesn't hold tight. Weak resolve never gets a man anywhere, he's sure of that. Weakness was the trap that got him here, that let him reach for her, reach far enough to send them both crashing down.
He had learned before this what weakness could do. If he hadn't long ago conquered weakness, he might still live with his family, still be a part of the evil that surrounds the Blacks. He was blasted off that tapestry long ago, both literally and figuratively, and he is glad for it. And yet, now, although that evil is gone from him, he can feel the slithery grip of vice clamping down on him again.
Yes, he knows this is vice. To betray a best friend, nay, brother. Is that not the lowest he can stoop? He has enough grace to admit this, not to try and justify or rationalize. He is enough of a man to do that. He will be more of a man when this is done.
The gray eyes shift up as the knob turns; he follows its movements like a man entranced. Better that than to look up and see what he knows he must. She is there, like he asked her to be. She has no idea that he is about to shatter everything.
No, that isn't the truth. He is sure that she has an idea. She has every idea. But he knows she'll pretend, mask it, act as if she doesn't know. All to try and make him hold on with her, to discourage him from letting go. He wants to hold on with her, and that is why he must be strong if he is to fight. To fight with love is the greatest war a man can endure. He is ready for this battle, but only because he must be.
When he can put it off no longer, he looks up. Decision meets fear as his gray eyes hit her green, hardened silver and emerald weak. She gives a soft smile, still knowing, trying not to care. "Sirius," she whispers, stepping in, shutting the door behind her, blocking out the world. All that exists now is him, her, the two. Still dancing their dance.
Before he knows what has happened, she's kissing him and his hands are full of her fiery red hair. No! his mind cries out against this red-orange silk that closes his eyes and makes him forget. She's enveloping him now, pulling him in with her undeniable spell. He doesn't want to deny it, wants to believe in her light forever.
You were supposed to be strong, Sirius, a voice berates him, whispering betrayal in the back of his mind.
I can just lose myself here, he tells it, don't worry about me. I'll be fine here. Fine. Just fine. He feels that silk that drew him in, hands press against her waist.
Sirius, think of James, he hears intoning again.
I won't! I can't think of him now. Why should I? Now he thinks only of her and her brightness. Why should he need truth, when he has her? He pulls in her closer, tighter, deeper.
Your brother, Sirius! Think of him. James, your brother.
That finally does it. Summoning all the willpower he has, he pushes her away roughly. "I'm sorry." His voice cracks, husky and deep.
Green eyes register hurt, and yet they both know she understands. She knows, too, that it has become a question of survival. They can't go on like this. She knows it, while with all her heart she doesn't want to. She tells him with her eyes that she understands, yet refuses to say it out loud, too scared to make it real by putting it into words.
He turns away and forces his stare into the impenetrable cement that surrounds them. If he shatters it, will he shatter, too? No. He is already shattered.
Summoning his resolve from somewhere far away, though his gaze rests only on the blank wall, he turns back, as ready as he can be. He takes gentle hold of her chin and forces her eyes up to meet his. Emerald glimmer almost weakens him again, but he draws on his courage and speaks.
"Lily," he whispers, giving in and letting himself say her name. "You know, don't you? Tell me you know. I don't want to say it."
The green eyes flutter closed, open, closed again. She shakes her head.
"You know as well as I do." One of them has to say it, to make it real. He will do it, save her the pain of etching the truth for them both. "We can't go on like this. We're betraying our best friend. He loves you, Lily." He bites his tongue before the treacherous thing adds 'And so do I.'
"I know," she whispers, slowly ready to acknowledge it. "I've known all along." A long pause draws on into restful and fighting silence. Tension plays like the strings of a harp, winding tight between them. She speaks again. "This is it, then?"
He wants to say no, yell that he had lied, that somehow he had forgotten how he truly felt. But he knows he can't. More than that, he doesn't want to. As much as he loves her, he can't go on betraying his best friend, being Judas, the snake in the grass to his brother who loves him. "Yes. This is it."
She nods and lowers her eyes. It is easier for him that way, and easier for her. "It isn't goodbye, though?"
"It's never goodbye, Lily." Because he knows goodbye means forever, and there is no forever in his world. "He'll take care of you, and he loves you more than the world."
"I know. I could never deserve him." A slow tear falls down, slides, glides like a shimmering star in the spreading velvet canvas of night. Down, down the soft ivory of her cheek, forging its stubborn path in a trail of regret. It sparkles like a diamond, glittering indefinitely, until he brushes it away, feeling it blaze against the tip of his finger. The sky is full of diamonds.
"You'll learn to," he promises. "It'll be easy, as soon as we both forget." But they both know forgetting can never be easy for those who love.
She puts a light finger to his lips, traces their outline for a last time. "What am I supposed to say now?" she asks him. "If I can't say goodbye."
"Say hello," he suggests, with the faintest hint of a smile.
"Hello, Sirius." Her eyes are sad.
"Hello," he whispers back. And yet they both know it means goodbye.
She's gone, disappearing from his eyes like a shooting star. It's easier to breathe now, the ins and outs becoming steady as his eyes fall once more upon the dancing flame. This dance is over. He has left the dance floor, left her dancing there without him, safe in his almost-brother's arms. It is better now. So much better.
He is forever free, as her sparkle leaves his eye, falls gleaming from him like a diamond-star, arcing down into the ever glowing stillness of a silent night.
