She feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around her waist, and smiles into her pillow. Sirius buries his face in her red hair, breathing her in.
"Mmph," she says. "Ger'off me."
"I don't think so, little lady. Get back here."
She crawls out, shaking him off as she goes. He flops against the bedpost, grinning after her. "Lils," he calls.
"What."
"Lils, c'mere."
She leans around the bathroom door, toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. "What."
He holds out his hand, but she shakes her head. "I have to go home and make a nice breakfast for my husband."
He sighs.
"You're getting clingy, love," she says.
"This isn't clingy," he says, his voice muffled with his face pressed to the mattress. "This is guilt."
"Sirius."
"What."
"I love you."
He lays his head on his arm and sighs again. "Just tell James about us, will you?"
She is shocked. He's never suggested anything like this before. "Why?"
"He's my soulmate," Sirius says. "I love him."
"You love me, too," she reminds him.
"I know, I know. I've just been thinking… I can't let him throw away his life on -" He lets the sentence hang. She knows what he was starting to say.
"If I've cheapened myself with this, so have you," she snaps. He tries to follow her into the bathroom, but she's leaning against the door to pull her shoes on. He rests his forehead against it.
"I know. I've just been thinking this isn't going to work."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because of James. We can't remove him from this and you know it."
She pulls the door open, so that he stumbles a little. "He doesn't love me."
"Of course he does. He married you, didn't he?"
She is shaking her head. "No, you don't understand. He's never loved me. It wasn't about that."
"Then what was it?"
"It… I can't explain it. It's complicated, all right?"
"You mean you don't love him."
"We don't love each other."
"Lily," he says, his face at the hollow of her neck. "He talks."
"What do you mean, he talks?"
"He says things to his friends."
"And what does he say?" She's trying not to shiver, Sirius with his body against hers, James at home maybe loving her after all. She tries to pull away.
"He says he loves you, Lily. What do you think?" He lets go of her, and she steps back unwillingly.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I needed you."
She looks at him, eyes dilated in the dim light. There is a ring of green around each pupil.
"I wanted you, then."
"That's what I thought." She's trying not to cry now, feeling dirty where he touched her. She cradles her arm, caressing the skin in an unconsious effort to scrub it clean. "You don't deserve him."
"Neither do you."
"Yes, by all means let's be childish about this." She presses her fingers to her face, palms against her mouth. "You used me. You used us."
"Oh, so it's us now."
She glares.
"I thought you didn't love him."
"Of course I do," she says, "I was misguided."
He lets out a harsh laugh. "You mean you liked fucking me more than your own moral standards."
"It's not like you minded," she mutters, unable to meet his eyes and so looking to the floor for comfort. The neatly tiled walls, the detailing paid for by her husband. She pushes past him. "I have to go."
He doesn't stop her. He must realize that there isn't anything more to say. She shuts the door behind her, gently by habit. She still feels the burn from touching him back.