An intense roll of emotion, pushing him further and harder and faster and oh God everything was so bright and so sweet so goddamn good he shivered, pushed the dam and felt the giant wave flood him with pleasure, and then everything disappeared, dried up so goddamn quick he didn't know where he was or what he felt. Empty again. He rolled over and collapsed a hand shamefully moving to cover his face. She was already up beside him, smiling coyly, satisfied. She was tearing him up inside, using him. He promised himself he wouldn't give in but god, oh fuck he loved her, he could never say no.

"Get what you wanted?" he asked her half bitterly

"Knew I would…" she purred planting a kiss on his chest. She was thankful, he gave it to her, when she made him moan, scream, beg. This information, he didn't even know how important it was; to him it was just being loyal to a friend.

It wasn't only the fact that she was using him, playing with him, literally screwing him for all she could get, it was more the fact that it was so easy for her to do, and if she did it with him, how many others were there? He couldn't think, he couldn't bear it. Fighting the urge to throw up he gently pushed her roaming hand away and made to get up, grabbing his shirt from the end of the bed.

"I know what you're thinking," she said "but honestly, I would've done that even if you had nothing I wanted. He just looked at her, then nodded sarcastically,

"yeah…" he said obviously disagreeing.

"Sirius," she pleaded, "don't be like this, please?"

"When are you leaving?" he asked her after a silent pause. She sighed,

"Now, I guess" she said, making her way off the bed. She grabbed her discarded clothes and walked to the bathroom, fighting tears.

He huffed loudly, lying back on his bed. He noticed how pretty the room looked from here, even without the sun. He noticed how the dim haze of golden light showed the dust dancing and wondered why everything looked so lovely. So lovely he thought. Well I guess when you feel sick and cheated and used by someone you love uncontrollably, unrequitedly, everything looks better outside, because inside, is so nauseating. It wasn't fair; it was wrong, so wrong. He wanted to cry. This was sickness and despair and pain and crying. Never again, he told himself, he'll get over her, maybe move away, somewhere nice, with lots of sun and maybe a river and some mountains to wake up to every morning. He smiled, his eyes closed. Really he ought not to feel so bad. He was just sucked and fucked by the girl he loves, and everything, everything is so lovely!

The bathroom door clicked open and he decided to put on a brave face, not for her, for him. He sexily propped himself up on his elbows.

"You not showering?" he asked her causally

She shrugged, "got the feeling you wanted me out of here pretty sharpish."

Now, he shrugged and shook his head as she threw a confused look at him before fixing her hair in his oak rimmed mirror.

"You know, I would've told you what you wanted to know anyway," he lied throwing a mock guilty look her way.

Good heavens she thought to herself, what does he think he's doing? I see through lies for a living.

Without missing a beat she smiled and winked, "I liked it better this way…" she told him. His eyes flashed as she eyed him hungrily.

I'm losing again, he thought to himself. He let himself fall back onto his bed and he closed his eyes, first making sure his torso was uncovered by the cushy blankets.

Fuck he's sexy, she thought, I can't believe I just slept with him, she remembered the way he'd moaned, called out her name, pushed into her as he held her waist.

"Y'alright there?" he asked with suppressed amusement, she hadn't realised he was watching her.

"Fine," she answered plainly "Have you got anything planned for the rest of the day?" she asked him casually, fixing her mini-skirt.

He laughed, "You're unbelievable," he stated grinning at her. He knew where this was going absolutely.

She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow but didn't say anything.

He was still chucking "Horny little biatch" he muttered. She was on top of him in an instant, magically holding his arms above his head, biting his nipple, painfully.

He moaned, in sweet pain.

"Sarah, please" he gasped, she relented and his arms found her waist again.

"Stay here," he growled at her, "you've got you need, stay for what you want."

And she just couldn't say no. She loved him far too much to ever say no.