"I wonder what heaven's like," he asked on one of those sweaty summer days, so long ago, the wind in our hair as we'd lain side by side, our bodies entwined in wispy blades of long, yellowed grass. "I wonder whether there will be clouds upon clouds for us to float upon. I wonder if, when we die, we'll see the loved ones, our loved ones, who will pass with us. I wonder if I'll see you." The sea breeze billowed around us, sending our wet clothes astrew.
I didn't know then, and I don't know now, how a boy of seventeen could be so adept with his questionings and answerings. I watched him, his blue grey eyes, shrouded by his dark eyelashes, casting shadows over his pale cheeks, just as his black hair did. I watched how his lips, pink and plump with youth, pulled at the corners whenever his face transformed into a mask of serenity almost instantly like puppeteers work. I watched how his face took on the same characteristics. I watched how, with every twist and turn of his body, any movement, like the simple rise and fall of his chest, the light would catch his pallid skin, making him look like an angel fallen from the sky. With his tattered working clothes strewn across the floor, and his body wrapped around mine, I found happiness within myself.
He always caught me staring, caught me off guard, what with his mischievousness. He would absentmindedly turn away from me, the muscles in his back tensing and untensing as he stretched like a cat, and just as he would pluck away at the grassy ground with his long, bony fingers would he also turn quickly and lift his eyes to my face. Embarrassed, I would look away regretfully, my eyebrows furrowing into a crease as if I would be grimacing, my cheeks a distinct colour of red.
It was only when he extended a hand to me, caressing my cheek before grabbing my hand and roping his fingers in mine did I know where I stood.
In Sirius Black I had found my soul mate.