Push and Pull (Sirius Black X Reader)

1978: The Stairwell

I don't know what this is—this thing that Sirius and I have going on.

I've never been the romantic type, and I suppose that's just something that comes along with never being in a relationship. It feels like he and I should be together after our talk, but nothing much changes. Not outwardly anyway.

I don't know how to handle the change. Because he and I haven't said anything to the others, and he knows me well enough not to even try. If he tried to kiss me or touch me in front of the others, I would definitely be uncomfortable, but he hasn't tried. Really, he hasn't tried much of anything since the last full moon.

That was four days ago.

Since then, he's been back to his normal self, and he picks on me in front of the others. It feels different to me now, though. I don't want to insult him in front of the others now that I know that he doesn't mean what he's said about me.

I'm just confused.

I've been preoccupied with the whole thing for a few days now, and it's been keeping me from sleeping, which is pathetic—believe me, I know. But I find myself almost asleep, drifting off while on the brink of sleep, and then suddenly I think about something I said to Sirius or something he said to me, and then I'm wide-awake again and thinking about what I should have said, or how I should have reacted when he said something snarky.

That was the case last night.

I was thinking about the night of the full moon and the conversation that we had, and I realized that I should have said more. I should have asked him what he felt for me, should have asked him how we were going to proceed. I didn't, of course. But, in my mind, I conjured up a million different ways that I could have incorporated it into the conversation. Different ways I could have asked him what he meant. Different ways I could have told him that I was willing to test these new waters we kept on skirting past.

Which is so stupid, because I shouldn't be sitting around dwelling on the past when the future is inevitably coming. Like today, for example. Why was I so worried about what I didn't say to Sirius days before when I should have been worried about what my day would look like if I didn't sleep?

Yeah. That's where I'm at. Nearly dozing off in the library when I should be studying for finals.

"Hey," Remus whispers and nudges me with his elbow. "You okay?"

I blink and straighten in my seat. "Yeah, why?"

"You don't seem completely... here."

"No, I'm fine. Just tired," I mumble and glance up. Peter and James haven't looked up, but Sirius is watching me from across the table; his face is still angled toward his textbook but his eyes are on me. He doesn't smile when he catches my eye, just watches me. I lower my voice some more, worried I'm bothering him. "I didn't sleep well last night."

"I don't reckon you're getting much studying done when you're half-asleep," Rem says and his fingers find their way to the corner of my textbook. There's a fraying bandage wrapped around one knuckle, blackened with ink. "Maybe you should take a nap and study later."

"We're all supposed to study together," I say.

"Well..." He shrugs his shoulders. "It's more important that you get some sleep. Want me to walk you to your room? Or do you want to sleep in ours?"

"I..." I trail off and I can't help from looking at Sirius again. He still looking at me, but he looks away when I meet his gaze. He leans back and stares off to the side into the maze of bookshelves beyond. I watch something shift in his jaw, the slightest clench of his jaw. "I don't know, Rem."