'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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♱
'I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, hoping to cease not till death I am mad for it to be in contact with me. The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs.
A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms, The play of shine and shade on the tree as the supple boughs wag, The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides, The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.'
CW: oral sex, reference to substance abuse.
Whom the gods destroy, they first make madly in love with a girl. In the past year, Sirius had learnt more than he ever thought he could say for himself. And there were surely worse ways for him wake up on the morning of his thirty-seventh birthday, beside a beautiful girl that laid so gently upon his chest...
He loved her more than any drug, the feeling akin to his own use: Sirius hadn't thought of heroin for days and was sure to have kicked the habit come winter. He couldn't be blamed for it, as it was only human nature to get addicted after trying something that felt so good.
There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to stop — once he did, he could start thinking about the future. It had been a year to the date since Hera had shared with him her mixtape, which if he sought at Grimmauld Place would be sure to find among those of his possessions he prized most. It marked a point where he'd come to see her in a different light, as a person with a soul, her own karma, life and experiences. Nothing felt so good as their mornings together and the realisation that there was more to life than getting high.
The sun was late to rise that morning, and as Sirius had woken well before then he figured he may as well stay at Hera's side stroking her hand. She never once stirred, the only inclination she gave was the small lapse of breathing pattern.
