Chapter 6: Coffee, Naps, Snogs.

There's nothing like a good coffee to start off the morning. Well, that's a load of crockshit in Cressida's opinion – there are plenty of much better alternatives – but none of them are promising her the same boost of energy that she so desperately needs. It's bitter and too hot, and slow to take effect but she wills it out.

An hour or so after James and Sirius both went to sleep Cressida had tried to join them but failed to keep her eyes shut long enough for blissfulness to come and seek her. However, she doubts that she is the only one in the house to not find much sleep.

The sun hasn't even risen yet, but it is sure to peak at any moment as the morning blue hour brightens with each passing second. The kitchen is dim without any lights on, so it stays soft on her sore eyes.

"You look as shit as I feel."

Cressida's lips part in a long sigh as Sirius struts into the kitchen. "You look more like yourself," she observes in counter. Instead of the black vest over a white collared shirt and tailored pants, he's pulled on a simple white cotton shirt, layered with a black leather jacket that has odd zipper placement as well as a pair of black jeans. Still just as stylish, but more of his own.

Sirius glances down at himself, nodding in agreement. "Why you up so early?"

"Never went down," she retorts, sipping her coffee with a wince. Finally giving up and resorting to the fate of needing a nap later on, she slides the mug over to the shaggy-haired boy. "You drink this shit, don't you?"

Sirius picks the mug up peering in with a shrug. "Not overly but I'll take it." He takes one of the stools on the other side and feeling faint, she joins him, laying her head down on the bench while he sips the coffee and gazes out the window. "Not today." Lifting her head up ever so slightly, she pinches her brow in request for clarification. Sirius runs his tongue over his dry lips, eyes turning downwards to stare into his mug. "I don't want to talk about it today."

Smiling in comfort, Cressida says, "That's okay." Her arm slides over the polished wood bench, her hand pressing under his arm only to circle back grip his fingers. "Any day is a good day."

She doesn't see his smile in response, but does feel his appreciation show through the pad of his thumb running over the back of her fingers. They stay in silence for long enough that the sun begins to bother her eyes even behind their lids.

"I didn't sleep much either," Sirius whispers. She isn't sure if he knows whether she is awake or asleep or even if he cares but lets him continue without disruption. "I had this nightmare that kept coming back every damn time I closed my eyes." His grip on her fingers tightens. "I don't even know why I'm reminding myself by telling you."

Cressida forces herself awake. Sirius' head is bowed, and a single tear is on the point of his cheek, threatening to drop onto the bench. She can't even remember that last time he cried before last night. "You don't need to, but I'm listening if you want to."

His head tips to the side to find her gaze and he holds it, but she can't read behind his dark eyes. Using her unoccupied thumb, Cressida reaches out to wipe the single tear off his cheek then leans forward to press a soft kiss in the same place. Sirius' eyes are closed as she retreats, swallowing thickly with a small smile. "That was sickeningly sweet of you."

Her nose crinkles upwards. "Hmm. But it made you smile, didn't it?" Smiling to herself, she uses the footrest to swing the stool from side to side. "It's what my mother used to do when I was a kid. Takes the sadness away and leaves something better in its place, she would tell me."

"Well it certainly did something along that line." Cressida offers a cheesy grin that simmers into a quiet chuckle as her eyes begin to struggle to stay open. "Don't smack your head."

"I won't," she says – or at least attempts to. She should go to sleep, but now that Sirius is awake, she doesn't want to leave him alone until James rouses. She'd just have to wait it out.

Her attempt is…fleeting; dozing in and out – only able to tell the time passing by the sun covering more and more of the kitchen as it faces east. Eventually there are another set of feet the come down the stairs – the heavy thud already alerting her that it is James before he shows.

"Morning," he greets quietly but warmly. "You're both up early."

"I think just me now," Sirius mocks. His hand which still sits with hers, next to her head which now lays on the counter pokes her cheek gently but she's far too gone to react. James' smile rises fleetingly as his folded arms brace on the opposite side of the counter.

"I've already explained some things to Mum and Dad," James says gently. "You don't need to say anything to them unless you want to, and they won't ask. But I think you should at least tell them that you're alright with your own words."

Sirius nods, gratefulness flooding his bones. "I will," he promises. With a bit more hesitation, he questions, "And…they're alright with me, you know, staying?"

"Sirius even if they weren't I'd keep you snuck in here. You could be a stray dog that I'll beg to keep." Even Sirius manages to chuckle at that one. "Is she right asleep?"

"Or on the verge."

"I should take her to the lounge at least." James strides around the counter and spins her stool around, being cautious not to let her head fall off the edge. The movement rouses Cressida enough to be conscious about what is happening, but not enough to construct a comprehensive sentence. "You awake?" Cressida hums – well more like gargles – in response. "At least do me the favour and hold on."

'To what?' she wants to ask, that is until she is quite literally picked up off the stool like a child too. Her arms are guided around his neck which she tightens her hold on considerably as everything underneath her disappears. With her head tucked into his neck, her nose is filled with the scent she can usually only pick up on as a bear.

He takes her to a common room where they often watch movies on a projector. "Believe me now when I said I had more muscle than Sirius?" he questions laughingly.

"Can't believe you even remember that conversation," she responds honestly, feeling herself being laid down. "I think I have more muscle than the both of you though."

"Is that right?" Cressida opens her eyes partially, nodding through a cheeky smile and a yawn. James only gives an amused smile, pressing his lips together and rubbing the length of her arm. She knows that he's being sweeter than teasing today to keep himself in check and constantly reminding himself that Sirius probably wouldn't bode well with their normal banter. And this is passing into their interactions as well naturally. It isn't exactly the usual circumstance they find themselves in. Everyone is unsettled. "I'll wake you up if anything too exciting happens."

"Or if Lily responds to your letter," she taunts, eyes closed once more as her energy moves into forming a smirk.

He lets off a small huff of laughter. "Or if Lily responds to my letter," he agrees. "Though I think that counts as exciting, but I haven't sent her anything."

"Just making sure," she murmurs, drifting off once more, barely comprehending his response.

Xx

By the late afternoon, there is no shift in the manor's calmness. James has been attempting to bring some sort of laughter back into his home but there isn't much to go around – though they do share quiet chuckles at his efforts.

At this time, Cressida had wandered around most of the house trying to find Sirius, and even James only licked his lips then nodded towards the back veranda. Sighing in annoyance that she hadn't checked there herself, surely enough, his black hair is a stark contrast from the dark green field in the distance.

Sure that he hears her presence, Cressida doesn't bother to announce herself and slowly paces over to his spot on the veranda's edge where his legs hang over. "There is a perfectly good hanging seat over there," she says instead, glancing over his shoulder where a perfectly good two-seater lounge hangs from chains connected to the roof.

"But then I wouldn't have poetic golden sunlight lighting half of my face." Cressida's lips press together as she tries to suppress a laugh but it evident that she fails. There is indeed a golden light from the sunset illuminating half of his face in what she can only describe as an abstract way. "How was France?"

Her lips open immediately to answer but rather than words, she can only manage a long exhale. "Nice," she answers eventually. "It was really nice, but I wish you were with us."

"I wish I was too," he smiles mournfully, his head bowing as his eyes point towards his hands lain in his lap. "But hey – you got to go to Paris, the city of love alone with James."

Cressida snorts loudly at that one. "Hardly alone with his mother and father there. I think I actually spent more time with Euphemia than James really. Besides, I think I'm actually starting to get over all that."

Liar, her brain hisses. Piece of garbage liar.

Cressida turns her head away, so her face doesn't reveal that to him.

"Really?" His voice comes in such a mocking deadpan that she can't help but snap her eyes back to glare at him with a locked jaw. Sirius doesn't bother meeting it, only exhaling slowly. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. It's a pity we'd never work."

Her glare softens. "Tell me why again?" She remembers his words clearly from the first time.

"Because we're both too damn pretty. It'd ruin the world." His head lops to the side, bearing a dog-like grin that she hasn't seen in many weeks. "People would just die in our presence."

"I'm interested," lopping her head in the same manner, she asks, "do you think they'd die from choking on their own spit or from a heart attack?"

He pauses before answering. "Aneurysm," he decides. Cressida burst into a fit of giggles, her weight rolling forward then backwards as she braces her weight on her hands. Sirius laughs along with her, his head shaking as though he's rethinking his choices. "I should thank you properly."

"For what?" Her eyes slim, tracing from his legs to his hair before back to his eyes.

His lips draw up in a sly, but almost hesitant smirk. "For kissing you in front of Reg." Cressida makes a small noise of recognition, her own lips morphing into a similar expression. "It was the final 'fuck you' I used against my mother."

Her smirk seeps away into a tiny smile. "He told them then? Regulus?"

Unpredictably, Sirius shakes his head, his soft waves bouncing off his cheeks. "He didn't actually. I did." His hands curl up into fists, running up and down his thighs. "But thank you for… not being weird after I suppose. I didn't really think of that."

"Sirius, the only thing that could ruin our perfectly good friendship is if you professed your undying love for me," she cackles. "It might become a bit awkward between us for a while." She speaks from the horrid scenarios her head has spent the past months forming.

Sirius laugh along with her, but it doesn't meet the intensity of her own. Cressida's own laughter simmers gradually, morphing into bubbles with periods of silence between them. He's staring right into her eyes with a desire that makes her stomach tighten.

Sirius turns towards her, his knee coming to rest on the veranda. Cressida lets her eyes wander down his body, paying particular attention to the way his muscles show through his white shirt. His adam's apple bobs in one long motion. Trailing her eyes back up to his face which is closer than before. His hand lifts from the polished wood until his fingers delicate brush over her cheek.

Her wet lips part a moment before his does and she can feel his shallow breaths. Cressida's head shifts on an angle as the gap closes and she is brought into a feeling that isn't entirely foreign.

Then they burst away from each other with grins that make their cheeks hurt. Cressida can barely speak as she lapses into loud cackles, Sirius already howling like one of those screaming monkeys. "I-I thought you were going to chicken out!" she cries, slapping the wooden veranda.

A game of chicken of course.

"You fucking went right for it!" Sirius shrieks back, holding his stomach and nearly falling onto his back. "I didn't think you'd be game!"

Tears streak down her face, fruitlessly holding her smile behind the back of her hand, the other shaking his shoulder vigorously. It's nice to see him laugh without care again. It feels like it's been too long.

Just as she manages to catch her breath, preparing herself to taunt him further, she spots another figure standing in the open doorway. James stands there silently, holding a ceramic white plate piled neatly with scones. Her breath catches and she quickly jolts herself backwards but only lapses into a further state of erratic laughter, knocking around Sirius' arm even more.

Sirius sits up, tossing his head over his shoulder before he too falls to a similar fate – his laughter almost silent and breathless.

James swallows densely, vividly, feeling out-of-place and unsure what to make of their antics. "Scones?"

Sirius and Cressida nearly asphyxiate themselves.

Hello and thank you again for the wonderful reviews! As to answer the enquiry - no James, is not currently aware of Cressida's home-life. He has a general idea that it's not the best place but he more so just thinks it's because of a shitty financial state.