Rain A Novel

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

A/N… Thanks for the reviews guys. I really appreciate them. I know its been a long time and I'm sorry I haven't been regular about updating.

Previously…. Her lips pursed together in a straight line and she crossed her arms elegantly; she was a Landon after all.

Sirius POV

I was starring at her; the book hanging limply above our heads like soured mistletoe. Furious.

Full lips.

Pink lips.

Cold.

Cold the way Narcissa's were when she walked with Malfoy. Narcissa, my sister, who, with half hooded eyes, sat naked on satin sheets and clinked champagne glasses to the sound of war.

My sister, who pretended I didn't exist.

Bella POV

He was staring at me fixated. And then he pushed me, like rag doll, against the stone wall.

His hand caught the back of my head. Soft, the way I used to hold Maggie; Maggie was made of porcelain.

He molded his body against mine with a familiarity that I resented. He was close. I scratched at him, my hands were claws as they caught his cheek. And in retaliation I found my wrists held tightly above my head.

I could feel his breath hot on my jaw. His stubble brushing against my sensitive skin.

"What's wrong you don't want me to kiss you?" His voice was mocking us both.

I could see him then at 15; proud, always proud.

His dark head bent against Victoria. Her breath coming in short spurts and her nails, polished red, digging into his back.

Victoria who we'd laughed at. Victoria, who tripped me with long tanned legs clad in silk stockings. Victoria with green eyes like a brittle apple. Victoria spread eagle on my father'smahogany desk.

"Harder Sirius. Harder." Her voice a panting command construed of china. The type my mother imported, hand made for luncheons. My mother loved china.

I cried then. And I remember Sirius finding me later. Later when Victoria's long blond hair had been brushed to perfection and Sirius's shirt tucked back in.

I sat with Maggie at our table in the playroom. A table set just the way my mother's always were. Almost. A pile of broken china sat primly. We sat, Maggie and I that is, Sirius did not have a place set.

"Quit pouting brat. Where's my seat?" He grinned at me; a smirk really. Boyish and dimpled.

I realized then that he would never have told me. Mother would have taken pleasure in my posture. It was perfect. Perfect in the same way the broken china was.

He was annoyed, I could tell by the way his forehead creased and his eyes cooled. His pride demanded a reply.

"Bella. It wouldn't kill you to give a little." It was an admonishment.

"Like Victoria?" I said it with all the coquetry of a practiced southern belle. It was an accusation. My voice cracked.

He was weary, his hand brushed back through his already messy black hair; long tan tapered fingers. "How much did you see Bella," his voice almost soothing. Almost.

He reached out. But I could see him; His tan fingers against her tanned skin.

"Don't touch me! You're disgusting" My voice was tinged with hysteria and unrecognizable as I slapped his hand away.

The hand clenched at his side and his voice hardened, almost accusatory. "Don't play jealous Bella it doesn't suit you. Don't make what happened between Victoria and me personal. It wasn't."

"It looked pretty god damn personal to me." I was crying. Imperfect tears coupled with imperfect half sobs.

"Aw common Bella, don't cry." He stepped forward but I walked to the other side of the table, pushing its contents violently to the left.

"Do not tell me what to do." My chest was heaving uncontrollably. Daddy always said I lacked self discipline. "That was my father's desk! Sirius, my father's desk. The shortcut to the library. I love the library." I was rambling; rambling, like a moth caught and fluttering erratically.

He was holding me then and I cried messily, my fists tightened against his chest. Clutching. The waltz raged below us and I could here them laugh somewhere in the distance.

"Shhhh." I could hear his breath warm in my ear. A caress.

"Why?" A half whimper caught in my throat. I was practically atop him now. My eyes scratched red.

I could feel him shift uncomfortably beneath me. And I clutched harder. I wanted it fixed. "You like me best Sirius. Me." A plea. I saw it for what it was. A compromise, at the expense of my pride. I went limp.

He disentangled himself.

He pulled away. And we were to get married. Mamman had said. And he pulled away. And he had never kissed me. Pulled away. Away. Away with the others. And I was alone. Alone with mamman. And daddy. And black and hoods and a set of broken china.

"Kiss me Sirius." I leaned in.

"Bella.." he was weary again.

"Kiss me!"

"Stop!"

"Why the hell not Sirius. Why?" Too much. Pride was armor around here you know.

I pushed him. Hard. And he bumped against the table. Its contents slid to the floor in a mad scream.

"Quit being such a bitch Bella. Who do you think you are?" He growled, balancing himself.

"Me what about you? You're just like them Sirius, just like them. You're so caught up with yourself you cant even see.."

"Oh so now you hate them. Now when things don't go the way you want them to. What's wrong princess?" His voice was bitter. Bitter like green apples. Bitter like Victoria's eyes.

"Stop." I screeched.

"You think you're different. What happened to 'Just try to get along Sirius' or 'You know they mean best Sirius?'" His face was dark now. His eyes black. He was mimicking me. Those were my words. Mine.

"This is my house. Get out. Get out now or I'll tell." I pushed at him and he stumbled.

He brushed himself off. Straightened. He was icy now. Like stones and my father's grip tight, too tight, on my hand.

"You're going to tell them?" He laughed and half swaggered. We were head to head now. Or more like head to chest. " Do you think they'd care? Its not the first time that desk's been used that way and you know it."

I paled. Pale like glass. Shattered, translucent.

"Don't talk about what you don't know." It was weak and I knew it.

I was lying.

"Don't know! You've heard them. Your father fucking the maid on it. Is that what you want. Do you want me to fuck you on that fucking table as well. Do you want to be god damn Victoria."

"Get out!"

It was quiet now. He was gone. The room was a mess. And I was crying.

I could hear the waltz from downstairs. Someone was laughing far off in the distance. Someone. High pitched and tinkling. Counterfeit laughter over counterfeit money.

I think Maggie was cracked.

We were all cracked. Cracked dolls in a cracked china house.

Sirius POV

I could remember it.

Her draped over me like silk. White cheeks tinged pink and her black hair everywhere. Loose and sleek. Like rain. Manicured fingers hot against my chest. And I wanted her.

And she wanted me too. Now, two years later. I could feel her pulse beneath my fingers and the maddening half breaths whispered on my shoulder.

She looked up at me wide eyed. And the corner of my mouth slid up. Half smile.

"That's over Sirius." Over. Done. Gone.

Fin for now.

The phrase "brat" comes from Jade Okelanie's story Our Winter. If you have not read it do so now! It is one of the best works of fanfiction period.