Eunoia | Sirius Black

|70|

╭            ╮
Sirius
╰            ╯

I think my heart just stopped. 

She has haunted my dreams and has sewed strings through my heart like a pattern I am yet to understand. I know the art of her body, know the length of every scar and know the incline of her eyes. 

"What?"

"Did you not hear what I said?"

I am in love with you I am in love with you I am in love with you I am in love with you I am in love with you I am in love with you I am in love with you I am in love with you I am in love with you I am in love with —

"Say it again."

"I love you, Sirius Orion Black." I jolt up, only because I want to watch her eyes as she says it. Trace the line of her lips as she pronounces my name. "Undoubtedly, irrevocably, relentlessly."

I think my eyes are watering but I don't really know because I can't feel it. I can't feel a thing. I think I'm dreaming. What I think is that the death of mum and dad has gotten to me so badly that I'm hallucinating. 

I don't think I have ever felt loved. I always thought I was born this way, born unloveable. But for the first time, as a single tear trails down Elena's left eye, I feel it. 

I feel it crawl up my spine like a warm hand coiling itself around me in a warm embrace. I feel it weigh down on my fast-beating heart, I feel it wipe the dampness on my cheeks. I feel it comb its fingers through my hair and kiss my forehead. I feel like I'm home. 

Her smile falters a little, "I don't expect you to say it ba —"

"I am so in love with you, Elena Hawke that I might be halfway to insanity," I whisper. "I am so in love with you it hurts to see you in pain. I am so in love with you that I might die if you don't kiss me this very moment."

She laughs and it's a hauntingly beautiful melody. Her lips slant in a smile I've memorised the soul of and as her mouth touches mine, I know I'd crawl home to her. 

And as her hand caressed my face, a million memories condensed into one, a million emotions weaved into a single warm blanket that I'd wear every day for the rest of my life. A million dreams clawed their way up and laughed in triumph. 

She was the vice of my autumn heart, the fallen leaf that floats into the wind recklessly, free enough to rival the flight of birds. She is a moulder and I am made of clay, and as she touches me as though it is the very first time, I am remade. 

My hands work on their own, and for the first time, I don't rush. I take my time — brushing every inch of her skin gently with my fingers, learning about her body in an entirely different way. Because it's not just lusting this time, is it?

She does the same. For the first time, her lips don't connect to mine in a way that claims she wants to be done with it. They collapse and melt and soar with joy and I can feel every single emotion in her heart. 

For the first time, her touch doesn't burn, it soothes. For the first time, she isn't just the poet, she is the poetry. For the first time, we smile and we laugh and we whisper 'I love you,' to each other in between kisses. 

For the first time, we make love. For the first time, I hold her as the night crashes and then I hold her through the dark and to the dawn. 

⚕⚕⚕

The night bled into the morning and I kept myself awake if only to look at the man who's managed to break me in the most beautiful of ways. 

The leaves blew and the snow fell and even though the world was swept under a white blanket, he rivalled its beauty. 

I drank my soured, rotting insecurities and inhaled in life. Life that my grandfather taught me, life that Charlus Potter taught me. The life that he taught me.

"Stop staring you creep."

I blink, "Good morning."

He smiles so wide, his jaw must hurt. Leaning up to kiss me, he whispers, "I don't mean that, I love it when you look at me with such devotion that my heart might burst."

"I know you didn't mean that with the way your face didn't go blotchy." I laughed. 

He scoffed and rolled his eyes but he was happy. I know he was because I was, too. I think that's what our parents wanted for us, anyway. 

I decide now's a better time than any, "My grandfather died, Sirius."

Sirius stopped breathing for a second as his eyes slowly met mine, "What?"

"He died two days before your mum and dad. I found him the day you went to the hospital."

He sat upright for a moment, a crease between his brows. "I don't understand."

I sit up with him, covering my body with the sheet because this was a serious conversation and I didn't want his eyes wavering, not that they would. "Someone used the killing curse on him."

"Elena," He breathes. 

I shake my head, cupping his jaw. "I am okay. Well, not any more than you are but I will be. I miss him more than anything but it's alright. He would want nothing more than for me to be happy. And I am, you make me happy."

He gulps, "He was murdered?"

I sigh and nod, "Sirius, I won't stop until I find his killer. Not that I want some psychotic revenge but. . .the most I can do is provide justice to grandpa. I know he wouldn't want that, not necessarily but it is as much for his sake as it is for mine. I will never forget his lifeless eyes, his motionless body. I think I would've accepted it much better were it a natural death."

"Elena, why did you not tell me? Tell anyone?"

How could I explain? I had gone through more in the last five days than I had in half my lifetime. Regulas nearly dying, the inferi, the Horcrux, grandfather dying, Sirius's parents dying. 

"How could I have? You were grieving."

"So?" He holds my hand tightly and brings it to his lips. "You grieved alone while we all burdened you with our mourning."

"You didn't burden me,"

"Just like you wouldn't have burdened us either." He whispers.

I swallow and nod, "I'm sorry. But I've always felt better dealing with complicated emotions alone, you know that."

"I know," He says softly, tucking my hair behind my ear. His eyes shine with devotion. "I love you,"

I smile, "I will never tire of you saying that."

He smiles, too and I think I've never felt happier.