author's note: hurrah this one's actually longer than seven lines!
It was 1980, mid-March, and the pair of them were sat on the stained settee in his flat, listening to the radio and consciously avoiding touching each other.
"Y'know, Dor saw us snogging yesterday…" Marlene broke the silence.
"Right." Sirius replied coolly, "Should I be worried?"
"You never worry."
"Indeed," he lit a cigarette, and threw his legs onto the coffee table. Their feet were touching, but she ignored it, and pressed on with what she was trying to say.
"She asked me what we were."
"I see."
He was being very short about it, and she knew what that meant (because she knew him). It meant he was scared, terrified even. Defining what they were, what they meant to each other (not a lot, if she was being honest) was not something they'd even discussed.
"I told her we were mates."
"Bet she didn't take that well."
Marlene smirked. "No, she didn't."
He mumbled something that sounded like 'uptight bitch'. The smirk fell from Marlene's face, and she grew ever more aware of how close their legs were.
"I don't love you."
He nodded, and exhaled. "I know."
"And I don't think you love me, I mean – not the way James loves Lily, or Frank loves Alice, or Edgar loves Sarah."
He nodded again. A Goblins song came on the radio, and she supressed the urge to hum along.
"Dorcas doesn't think…uh, she doesn't think that we should continue seeing each other if we don't love each other."
"Circe, what is she?" Sirius moved his feet away from hers, and it was like a weight lifted off Marlene's chest, "What is she, 12?"
"I agree with her."
"You what?" he looked at her for the first time since she'd sat down two hours ago. His face had little lines (lines that should not have been there, because he was twenty, dammit) around the eyes. Stupid fucking war, she thought miserably.
"I said," she repeated, "I agree with her. If this-" she gestured to the space between them, "isn't going anywhere…."
"You said you didn't want it to!"
"Yeah, but things-"
"Have changed, yeah, I know."
"Right. Good."
They fell into an ice cold silence again, the Goblins still wailing about the girl that Charmed their heart.
Eventually, after what seemed an age, she pulled her long legs from the table and stood up.
"Where're you going?"
She didn't look at him, she just picked up her battered leather jacket with a sad and quiet sigh.
"I'll see you around, Black."
He grunted coldly in return, and she snuck out into the rain, quickly and quietly, like she'd never been there at all.
For a long while, he did nothing, and the radio played on like nothing had happened. The Goblins played, then Celestina Warbeck, then The Pumpkins, and after an age, he wiped his face with the back of his hand and muttered – "Shit."