Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Warning: Talk of underage kissing, cousincest. And this is a little bit different then what I usually write so yeah. :)
It's her wedding and she's wearing white and his first thought is, been there, done that, andi.
He's flushed and he's not sure if it's because of the summer heat or Andromeda being in such a low cut dress. He tugs at his collar. Sweat tickles his neck. He uses a sleeve to wipe his forhead.
Yeah, it's the heat.
The priest (preacher, pastor, whatever, he doesn't know and doesn't care.) goes on and on, about what he's not sure, and he tugs at his collar again.
He finds himself looking at her, eyes drawn to her plump red lips, forcing him to remember what it felt like when her lips were against his.
her mouth tastes sweeter then fresh strawberries.
He looks away, studies the ground with forced interest, trying to ignore the way his stomach clenches.
Because she's marrying Ted (nice, not cousin) Tonks, and it was only once, and she's his cousin, six years older, it's wrong, really wrong, and he needs to move on, he truly does.
He looks up again, and he's close enough to see the droplets of perspiration that cling to her skin, her pale cheeks flushed cherry, her dark hair styled in curl ringlets that fall casually across her shoulders and there's a graceful, dangerous air about her now that he's only noticing for the first time.
He smiles, just a little, before the priest (preacher, pastor, he really needs to figure out what the man is.) finishes his long spill and tells Ted to kiss his bride and she crushes her lips against her new husband's and he has to look away, has to remember it's okay to breath.
His legs carry him to her side, acting on their own will, and forces a smile, shakes Ted's hand, says "Congrats, Tiger." before turning to Andromeda, looks everywhere but her as he tells her that he's happy for her. (And it's selfish he knows but he's not happy for her, not at all.)
Her hand ghosts his, and he pulls back sharply, and a flash of hurt passes over her face (just briftly) and he smiles apologically at her, turns away to leave before her hand grabs his wrist, a silent request to stay.
He flinches, wrestles out of her grip, meets her eyes (don't touch me, please, don't touch me.), before relenting.
Her eyes tell you she's sorry and she leanes over, tells Ted something he doesn't catch before giving her husband (how he hates that word) a quick kiss on the cheek.
She motions him to follow her and he does like a loyal puppy (the irony there.) She hikes up her dress, and marches away from the post-wedding party and he's not sure where she's taking him and he's equelly torn between wanting to know and not.
She leads him quite some distence away, leads him to some peach trees that give a little comfort from the heat.
Stopping suddenly and turning around sharply, she says, "I took advantage of you and I'm sorry."
He stares at her, dumbstruck. "What are you on about, Andi?" Because he honestly doesn't understand.
She presses her lips in a thin line, putting her hands on her lips. "You're fourteen, Sirius. I'm twenty. I took advantage of you." And we're cousins.
He laughs humorlessly, scowling. "Advantage, my arse. I remember full well that I snogged you back."
She shakes her head. "I'm the adult, and you're underage. I should have never let it get that far."
He studies her blanky, arching an eyebrow. "Merlin, Andi, we both know that we knew what we were doing." He shakes his head ruefully. "And wasn't it you who said I was older then I really was?"
She presses her lips together tightly. "It wasn't right, Sirius."
He clenches his teeth so hard together, he's surprised that none break. "I'm not saying it was. What I'm trying to say here is that we both knew what we were doing. It was just a couple snogs." Sighs. "And I don't regret it."
She throws up her hands. "We're cousins and I'm married and let's just forget it all."
"Well, I can't," he snaps, frustrated, hurt, angry at both of them.
"You have too," she insists, and for a moment, it's like she's trying to convince herself and not him and maybe, she isand normally he would willingly call her out on it but he's too tired. "Forget it all. Let's just move past it. Please."
For a moment, he falters, considers lying, considers telling her: sure, of course, he'll forget it all. But then he remembers her lips pressed against his and he's tired of lying, of pretending, of hiding, of being someone he isn't because he has enough of that at home.
"No, I'm not forgetting it. We can move past it, it was just a couple snogs anyway, but I'm not forgetting what we had."
He can't place it but a look flashes of her face and it's gone so fast he thinks that maybe he imagined it. "Please, Sirius. Let's just get back to what we had before."
He stares, debates with himself for a moment, notes the tired look that she wears then nods, deciding and lying, the latter something he's always been good at. "Fine." As long as she's happy.
She looks startled, obviously she wasn't expecting agreement. "Fine?" she echoes.
"Fine." He nods. "Go back to Ted. From this moment on, nothing happened between us that wasn't supposed." The words taste like posion.
She gives him a tight smile, ruffles his hair then turns away, leaving him and in that moment, he can't decide who he hates more.
Her, for doing this to him, or himself, for feeling this way about her.