"you have me. until the very last star in the galaxy dies, you have me."
With a war on the rise, 8 friends must try to understand their importance in a world that is slowly crumbling around them. Darkness appears out of every place in their lives...
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"soaking up all the hours, all the days left in the sun"
August and September had come and gone. Sirius couldn't remember a time he had felt so bored or numb in his life, but he felt as though he was sitting in front of the window watching the weeks slip by without him. Remus had left after he had recovered from his wounds, and while Sirius still felt skeptical, he was tired of being away from his best friend. So the shy man came over every few weeks for dinner or coffee, making small appearances here and there. Sirius appreciated that he wasn't around all the time because though he hated to admit it, his walls were still up.
He felt like every time Remus was over, he was watching him closely, waiting for him to stumble over words and make a mistake that would show he was the spy all along. The sooner they found him, the sooner James and Lily could come back, Sirius would tell himself. He was searching for things in Remus' language or mannerisms that weren't there.
Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew who it was. He had a feeling, an itch that would often keep him up at night while Cleo slept peacefully beside him. I know this person, he would think. I just know it.
He would think often of James and Lily and Harry. On July 31st, he and Cleo baked a small cake in their apartment and sang happy birthday to their godson, wherever he was. They blew out a single, solitary candle that they had squished into the icing, and each dug into it with a fork solemnly. Cleo looked at the photo she took of Sirius holding Harry often, and Sirius would sometimes catch her smiling down at it.
He started to wonder if maybe he should just give Cleo a baby so that they wouldn't have to miss or think about Harry so much—then he reminded himself that he would rather die than try and raise a baby right now, not with all that he had to fear losing already.
On a rainy Tuesday, Cleo found Sirius on the floor. She had been reading a book in their room, but every few minutes, her fiance would let out a great sigh or a groan, and finally, enough was enough.
She slammed the book shut and padded out to the living room, where she found the man she loved in the middle of the room. His hair, which had grown out quite a bit again, splayed out on the carpet, and he was in the same pajamas he'd been wearing all week. She watched him sigh and roll over, playing with the carpet like a child who needed attention.
"What is your damage?" Cleo asked.
"I'm bored," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Read something," she said.
"I've already read everything in this goddamn flat," he muttered, scowling at the ceiling.
She sighed too and looked around the room, noting the messiness in the kitchen. "You could do the dishes," she suggested, to which Sirius replied with a louder groan as he flopped around on the ground. Cleo rolled her eyes.
