A/N: I planned on this being like a 3-part ficlet, but I find too many good ending and beginning points and I end up with short chapters. So it's actually going to be something in the vicinity of 7-9 total chapters. That means 3-5 after this one. So enjoy it while it lasts, and don't forget to tell me how I'm doing! I'm actually trying to think of ways to prolong it, so if anyone has interesting ideas I would love some suggestions. I'm not going to turn this into an action-explosion-Voldemort-defeating fic though.
This is a rather fluffy chapter. You know, sweet and cute and all that.
Try to Love Again: Part Four
When I was finished, it was late. I was exhausted and emotionally drained, and the room had passed over into darkness a while before, when the sun set. Before I even knew it, I was asleep.
When I woke up, Sirius wasn't in my room anymore. I followed the scent of my favorite apple-chicken sausages cooking to the kitchen.
Sirius was just cracking a couple eggs into a pan on the stovetop next to the one the sausages were in. His long, dark hair fell over his face in choppy sections, and he was wearing only a pair of black silk pajama pants slung low on his hips. His numbered tattoo from Azkaban stood out on his left shoulder blade against his pale skin. 25663. I couldn't help but notice the muscles of his forearms and the expanse of soft skin on his back begging to be touched, flawless but for a long white scar from his left hip up through the second six of the tattoo. He was sexy. And not even just for his age- actually sexy.
I was just about to make a noise and alert him to my presence when he turned towards me and smiled. He must have sensed me looking at him.
"I made your favorite. Can you get the milk out?"
Sirius watched Ginevra as she reached up to grab the milk bottle. Her long crimson hair hung down her back in soft, untouched curls, some sticking up at odd angles in the back from being slept on. She had slept the night in her clothes and wasn't planning on going anywhere today, so she wore the first pair of pajama pants (pale yellow satin, lace edging dragging under her bare feet) and white v-neck t-shirt that she had picked up off the floor that morning. She wasn't wearing a bra. A little of the dark green eyeliner she had worn the day before remained at the corners of her eyelids, stubborn despite the tears it had been through that afternoon. She hadn't gotten a chance to reapply it or wash her face yet. Sirius thought she was beautiful. Jesus, he shook himself, I'm old enough to be her father. I'm a fucking pedophile!
Sirius and I talked about random things all through breakfast, both of us aware that we were studiously avoiding what I had said the night before. We were doing a good job of it, too.
After Sirius helped me learn the charm professor Flitwick was teaching my class back at school, he told me to go get dressed. I put on a pair of jeans, a bra, and a green scoop-neck t-shirt and met him downstairs, and we flooed to Diagon Alley together.
We shared a large ice cream at Florean Fortescue's and then headed straight for Quality Quidditch Supplies. When we left, I was carrying a brand new Nimbus 2002. I did protest, god knows, but Sirius wouldn't hear of it. Said he had more gold than he knew what to do with anyway.
We ducked into alleyways whenever we saw someone I knew, but I felt like myself again.
When we got back, I wanted to try out my new broom. We went out to the yard, racing in circles and laughing. When it got dark and we were exhausted, we headed back inside and ate French toast for dinner because that's what I was hungry for. It was an excellent day.
After dinner we sat together in the library, Sirius reading and me writing a 24-inch Defense Against the Dark Arts essay for Snape. When I had finished, I took a deep breath and walked toward the couch Sirius was on. I told myself I was going to get over this stupid phobia before they carted me off to St. Mungo's. I sat down next to where Sirius was slumped against the cushions and laid my head on his chest.
He seemed surprised at first, but then he snaked a hand up to wind in the soft curls at the top of my head. I could hear his heart beating in my ear. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. I shut my eyes, taking in that calming scent as the soft cotton fabric of his t-shirt tickled my cheek, his hand running through my hair in comforting caresses. We sat like that for a long moment. It felt like forever, but in a good way.
"Thank you, Sirius," I whispered.
"Oh, Ginevra" he replied softly, his breath hot in my ear and his hand running down my back.
I just love this stuff, it's so sweet. I can almost feel Sirius's shirt and hear his heartbeat myself. Mmmmm… I would say that I'm jealous of Ginny, but she got raped. So no, not really jealous. Gotta keep our priorities. REVIEW!