One Step Ahead part I | Sirius Black

Chapter 146

{{no editing, my bad. But I wanted to give you all another update for being so patient. This one really makes my heart happy. Love you!}}

Sirius sits quietly at the kitchen table, sweat still cooling the back of his neck.

He exhales heavily, his eyes clenching shut. The cottage is dark, the sound of the waves and the gentle breeze the only sign that the beach is always awake.

He could still feel the terror gripping his heart, his nightmare lingering far too long for his liking. He recognized the room he'd been in all too well. Grimmauld Place wasn't easy to forget.

His heart still pounds from seeing his mother and father watch on proudly as a certain wizard with scarlet eyes and pale skin held a fistful of hair. Blonde hair.

Gwen's hair.

Sirius shakes his head to try and rid himself of the thoughts, of the dream and of the memory that he'd seen in Snape's mind. It was still haunting him, that Gwen was somehow tied into something Voldemort wanted. Or she was a threat to it.

"There you are."

Sirius jumps slightly, startled by the voice. He peers over his shoulder, studying Gwen as she shuffled into the kitchen wearing one of his shirts. His heart aches, because this was at risk of being lost. This war could take away his chance to see her messy hair, her cheeks red from sleep. This war could take everything.

Sirius quickly looks away, avoiding her searching gaze. Silence hangs between them for a few long moments, drawn out and tense. He knows she won't speak first, she tried to always let someone else have the first say. Because she somehow always had the last word.

She doesn't speak, instead she turns to the stove and flips on the gas, her hands reaching for a pot and two mugs. Sirius' heart ache begins to fade when he realizes what she's making, her fingers breaking up chocolate as milk simmers on her rusting stove.

Sirius runs his thumbnail along the chipped white paint on the table, his voice betraying him as he rasps, "Aren't you going to ask?"

Gwen doesn't turn to face him, and as much as he wishes she would, he's also glad she doesn't. He's uncomfortably vulnerable, uncomfortably scared. The Veela simply wonders, "Would you like me to?"

Sirius doesn't answer, his lips pressed into a firm line that prevent any words from escaping him. His silence is his answer. He keeps his eyes locked on the table, even when he hears the stove turn off and shuffling feet. A mug is placed in his eye sight, one with chipped floral designs. She needed new mugs, a new table. But then again, he liked the flaws in her house. It made it real. Grimmauld place was never real the way the beach was.

Sirius reaches out, not for the mug but for the narrow hips beside him. He finally looks up at her, meets her even gaze. Her lips quirk into a soft smile that makes his heart pound, especially when she raises her mug to hide behind it.

Sirius smiles too, a tiny one that he goes to hide as well. He wraps an arm around her waist, leaning his forehead against her stomach and closing his eyes. His heart thumps loudly in his ears when he feels her fingers in his hair, stroking and pulling gently.

"I had a nightmare," He finally confesses, his eyes shutting when her fingers still in his hair. He sucks in a deep breath before whispering brokenly, "And I think you were dead in it. I think they killed you."

Sirius hears her set down her mug, feels her hands slide to cup his face. And then he's forced to look up at her again, though this time she's a blurred image through the tears that threaten his eyes. Dead. He couldn't live in a world where she was dead.

"Sirius," Gwen murmurs, eyes wide with surprise. Her thumbs quickly swipe away his tears, her voice steady as she reassured, "I'm going—"

"Don't," He interrupts angrily, shaking his head. He blinks away more tears and continues, "You can't keep saying that you're going to be fine. That we're going to be fine. You don't know that."

He lifts his hands to wrap around her wrists, but he doesn't pull her away, he leans into her touch. She was warm, here. Alive. She was alive. But for how long?

"You're right," The Veela finally says. Sirius' brows shoot up in surprise, his sadness and anxiety fading as a laugh bubbles from his girl's chest.

"Don't look so shocked," Gwen mutters, rolling her eyes. She smiles faintly before saying quietly, "I don't want to anticipate death or pain or sadness, Sirius. That makes me feel like I'm waiting for it. I don't want to wait for it."

Sirius' throat grows tight. She was right. She was always right. He didn't want to wait for bad stuff either. He wanted to enjoy the good. He sits silently for a few moments, staring up at her quizzically. Gwen just stands quietly, an easy smile on her face. He wants to see that smile for the rest of his life, no matter how short it may be. He wants to hear her laugh, kiss her lips, run his fingers through her pearlescent hair until they are old and grey and spend their last moments with their feet in the sand and the sun warming their skin. That's what he wanted to wait for.

He takes in a shuddering breath before saying quietly, "I want you to marry me."

Gwen blinks, still passive and calm. Though her cheeks do look the faintest bit pinker, and her smile looks a tiny bit easier. Sirius flushes at her silence and grunts irritably, "Have you nothing to say to that, you bloody Inferi?"

He swats away her hands angrily when she goes to pinch his cheeks, feeling the sharp sting of rejection at her lack of answer. He looks away from her, his jaw clenching with embarrassment. A no. That was a no.

"If you let me answer before you throw your bloody tantrum, I'd appreciate it."

Reluctantly, Sirius looks up at her again. His heart races at the affectionate look on her face, the sparkle of an emotion he can't quite name dancing in her eyes. Her voice is warm, nearly shy as she says,

"Not today. Probably not tomorrow. But ask me again when you aren't scared or sad...and my answer will be yes."

Sirius' eyes grow round, his lips parting in wordless shock. Disbelief. Pure disbelief. She wasn't saying no. Gwenyth Whitlock wasn't saying no to the prospect of marriage. With him, Sirius Black. He blinks a few times, squeezing her wrist as he asks softly, "You're saying yes?"

Gwen laughs, brushing the side of her thumb over his cheek. Her smile is wry and she corrects bluntly, "I'm saying yes to saying yes. Just not right now."

"But someday?" Sirius wonders hopefully, his lips spreading into a wide grin at her nonplussed tone, "Like someday soon?"

The Veela shrugs, her voice playful as she replies, "I never took you for a marriage sort of guy, Black. But sure."

Gwen stares silently as he springs to his feet, knocking over one of the mugs and shaking the table. She sighs at the mess, before looking up at his face as he exclaims, "You want to marry me!"

She quirks a brow at his excitement, asking curiously, "Is that so surprising?"

Sirius barks out a laugh, scooping her up into his arms and setting her down on the table. He leans his forehead against hers, wrought with emotion yet again as he chuckles at her blasé tone. He whispers throatily, "Inferi...my Inferi."

Gwen's cheeks turn pink at the loving way he says her nickname and she shrugs again, whispering happily in reply, "Someday. Someday soon."

Sirius grins, nightmares and every negative thought gone from his mind as he brings his lips to hers.

Someday.

Soon.