Chapter 5
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I looked at the tomato soup, realizing belatedly that I wasn't hungry and
there was no spoon. To be polite, I drank a bit of it straight from the bowl before
setting it on the bedside table. I lay back, closing my eyes and thinking. What on
earth had possessed me to say he was beautiful? I sighed, and mentally shoved
that quandary aside in favor of a more urgent one: what to do about Sirius. After
pondering for many long minutes, I decided to err on the side of caution. I would
assume he was a criminal until clearly proven otherwise. So I would play along,
do whatever he said, and do my best not to piss him off. That decided, I tried to
sleep, but I had gotten so much rest lately that I found it impossible to do more
than close my eyes. After about half a miserable hour of lying on my back, wide
awake despite my best efforts, I gave up. Unfortunately, I'm the type of person
who gets bored extremely easily, and sure enough, within ten minutes I couldn't
stand just lying there for another moment. I sat up and craned my head to look
out the door and saw Sirius' silhouette against the fire in the hearth. He appeared
to be lost in thought, his head bowed and his hands folded in his lap. I thought
for a moment before calling out, adopting my best polite behavior.
"Um.Mr. Black?" His head jerked up and he swiveled around to look at
me.
"Yes?" he said distantly. I could tell his mind was still on whatever he'd
been pondering.
"Can I.can I sit in front of the fire too? Only, I'm cold and my book's
over there and everything." I trailed off, still slightly embarrassed from my
unintentional comment earlier. Sirius, however, seemed to have gotten over it.
He stood up and entered my room without hesitation, his manner still reserved.
He lifted me out of bed, grabbing a blanket at the same time, then carried me
over to the hearth and set me down. I used my arms to cross my annoyingly
useless legs as Sirius settled himself down on the far side of the fire. I was still for
a moment, simply enjoying the heat and crackle of the flames in contrast to the
rain drumming on the windowpane. Then I looked for my book, and was
surprised to find it several feet from where I had left it the night before.
Stretching, I picked it up and examined it closely.
"You were reading my book," I said conversationally. Sirius took his eyes
off the fire to look over at me.
"I've read it before," he said nonchalantly, "I was just reading my favorite
parts over again." I was intrigued: I had very unusual taste in books and had
never before met someone else who shared my tastes.
"You've read Kahil Gibran?" I asked. "Did you like it?" Sirius smiled
vaguely and gazed back at the fire.
" 'Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you
are the veil,' " he quoted, flames dancing in his dark eyes. "It was one of my
favorite books, before." he trailed off, pain flashing across his face before he
managed to mask it. "Anyway, I hadn't read it in a long time and I missed it." I
looked down at my hands, twisting my fingers as an awkward silence grew. I
reached up to massage my throbbing temples and my fingers touched the gritty
blood still stuck in my hair. I made a disgusted noise.
"Ugh, my hair must look a mess," I mumbled, then looked up at Sirius as
an idea struck. "Do you think you could take the curse off just long enough for
me to take a shower?" I asked hopefully. Sirius turned his head in my direction,
but his eyes seemed to look straight through me.
"I can't risk it," he said, looking down, "You know that." My shoulders
slumped slightly in disappointment, but I wasn't really surprised.
"I know," I sighed, wrapping my blanket closer around me and pulling
my hair free of the coverlet with a grimace of distaste. I opened my book and
began reading, but it was only a minute or so later when I was interrupted by
Sirius' voice.
"I could help you, if you like." I looked up from my book, confused.
"What?"
"With your hair," he clarified, his eyes appraising the filthy state of my
head. I considered. Though I did want to wash, I certainly didn't want an
escaped convict helping me do it. I was about to refuse, but then I remembered
my previous resolution to go along with Black and not upset him. Judging by the
look on his face, this was probably his way of apologizing for hurting me in the
first place. And generally, people get upset when apologies are rejected. Steeling
myself, I gave him a slight smile and nodded.
A/N: The quote used in this chapter was from the book The Prophet by Kahil Gibran. I'm sure no one thought that was mine. Right? ^_~
there was no spoon. To be polite, I drank a bit of it straight from the bowl before
setting it on the bedside table. I lay back, closing my eyes and thinking. What on
earth had possessed me to say he was beautiful? I sighed, and mentally shoved
that quandary aside in favor of a more urgent one: what to do about Sirius. After
pondering for many long minutes, I decided to err on the side of caution. I would
assume he was a criminal until clearly proven otherwise. So I would play along,
do whatever he said, and do my best not to piss him off. That decided, I tried to
sleep, but I had gotten so much rest lately that I found it impossible to do more
than close my eyes. After about half a miserable hour of lying on my back, wide
awake despite my best efforts, I gave up. Unfortunately, I'm the type of person
who gets bored extremely easily, and sure enough, within ten minutes I couldn't
stand just lying there for another moment. I sat up and craned my head to look
out the door and saw Sirius' silhouette against the fire in the hearth. He appeared
to be lost in thought, his head bowed and his hands folded in his lap. I thought
for a moment before calling out, adopting my best polite behavior.
"Um.Mr. Black?" His head jerked up and he swiveled around to look at
me.
"Yes?" he said distantly. I could tell his mind was still on whatever he'd
been pondering.
"Can I.can I sit in front of the fire too? Only, I'm cold and my book's
over there and everything." I trailed off, still slightly embarrassed from my
unintentional comment earlier. Sirius, however, seemed to have gotten over it.
He stood up and entered my room without hesitation, his manner still reserved.
He lifted me out of bed, grabbing a blanket at the same time, then carried me
over to the hearth and set me down. I used my arms to cross my annoyingly
useless legs as Sirius settled himself down on the far side of the fire. I was still for
a moment, simply enjoying the heat and crackle of the flames in contrast to the
rain drumming on the windowpane. Then I looked for my book, and was
surprised to find it several feet from where I had left it the night before.
Stretching, I picked it up and examined it closely.
"You were reading my book," I said conversationally. Sirius took his eyes
off the fire to look over at me.
"I've read it before," he said nonchalantly, "I was just reading my favorite
parts over again." I was intrigued: I had very unusual taste in books and had
never before met someone else who shared my tastes.
"You've read Kahil Gibran?" I asked. "Did you like it?" Sirius smiled
vaguely and gazed back at the fire.
" 'Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you
are the veil,' " he quoted, flames dancing in his dark eyes. "It was one of my
favorite books, before." he trailed off, pain flashing across his face before he
managed to mask it. "Anyway, I hadn't read it in a long time and I missed it." I
looked down at my hands, twisting my fingers as an awkward silence grew. I
reached up to massage my throbbing temples and my fingers touched the gritty
blood still stuck in my hair. I made a disgusted noise.
"Ugh, my hair must look a mess," I mumbled, then looked up at Sirius as
an idea struck. "Do you think you could take the curse off just long enough for
me to take a shower?" I asked hopefully. Sirius turned his head in my direction,
but his eyes seemed to look straight through me.
"I can't risk it," he said, looking down, "You know that." My shoulders
slumped slightly in disappointment, but I wasn't really surprised.
"I know," I sighed, wrapping my blanket closer around me and pulling
my hair free of the coverlet with a grimace of distaste. I opened my book and
began reading, but it was only a minute or so later when I was interrupted by
Sirius' voice.
"I could help you, if you like." I looked up from my book, confused.
"What?"
"With your hair," he clarified, his eyes appraising the filthy state of my
head. I considered. Though I did want to wash, I certainly didn't want an
escaped convict helping me do it. I was about to refuse, but then I remembered
my previous resolution to go along with Black and not upset him. Judging by the
look on his face, this was probably his way of apologizing for hurting me in the
first place. And generally, people get upset when apologies are rejected. Steeling
myself, I gave him a slight smile and nodded.
A/N: The quote used in this chapter was from the book The Prophet by Kahil Gibran. I'm sure no one thought that was mine. Right? ^_~