the hurricane with my name

drowned and dreamt

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader
warning(s)- angst, substances, suggestive content.
a/n- this is a really devasting chapter, and there's no interaction between sirius and reader in this one. but for the sake of his character in the story, i feel this is relevant. 

sirius walked into a muggle toy store, looking for stuff that his godson-who he had never met, might like. what would a boy of 6 like, he wondered. in his mind, he was reminded of 20 year old sirius black when he'd had held the soft, warm bundle of joy within his arms for the first time, already making up plans in his mind to spoil him rotten.

he'd almost lost it when james had asked him to be his godfather. he'd been shaking from holding back tears of joy. he remembered harry's first birthday. he'd went all out, ordered a big chocolate cake from the finest bakery, bought about twenty pairs of outfits, and a toy broom. with the war tossing and turning into its darkest paths, he supposed it would cheer the confined little soul.

little did he know the moment he'd dreamt for so long, would be drowned with a span of a few months.

so, he stared at the colorful collection of toys neatly arranged on rows, wondering what he could buy. he didn't want to send in any toys which induced magic, he supposed petunia wouldn't like it. he couldn't imagine how she treated him, but by sending anything petunia would be prejudiced about, he didn't want to worsen it.

so, he picked up a toy car, which was shaped like a little beetle, a little lion stuff toy, a few coloring books, a set of crayons and water paints, and the best quality brushes. his pockets full of money, he wanted to spent all he had for him, to make his godson happy.

to see harry happy would be having the world in his hands.

the elderly woman at the counter smiled, wrapping up the things into a shiny paper and sliding it into a colorful bag with animated drawings of little animals. somehow, sirius felt his heart hurt. somewhere, in his mind he was reminded of his childhood.

was he trying to give harry the life he never had? was he trying to live his childhood through him?

*-

with soft steps, sirius found way to james potter's grave. the night had fallen, the dark sky reflecting the shine of the stars high and bright. somewhere, he imagined james watching sirius from up there, floating towards him and wiping off the hot tears staining his face.

he sat beside the tombstone.

'are you cold in there james? i s'ppose so. but i think you'll be quiet warm, prongs. weren't you such a ray of sunshine?' he pauses, as if waiting for a reply. he stares at the name engraved on the stone. somewhere, he felt a part of himself drown. but he let it drown, shy of the spark of life. he adored the feeling, which wrapped its hands around his neck. he breathes slowly,

'you were a ray of sunshine to me prongs, when i was drowned in the rain. you took me in, provided the warmth that my own mother couldn't. all of you provided me the warmth i needed. you, lily, remus, harry. speaking of which, i bought him a few presents for his sixth birthday, you remember don't you?' he pauses again, the lump in his throat tightening. he whispers slowly, letting the tears consume him into a little ball, cutting off the air,

'your life was so short, but you got so many blessings, prongs. we were so young, and there was so much we couldn't do. there was so much you couldn't do. so much, like raising harry. i know you'd be a great dad, just like papa.' the tears fall, and his heart bleeds. he finds the vile cruelty of life capturing him into an endless loop of imprisonment.

'i miss you, prongs.'

*-

the whiskey is neat, harsh and bitter as it flows down his throat. it burns, the taste unfamiliar on his tongue. the keys of the new apartment prick into his skin, so, he adjusts his pants, while sliding down another bill for a new glass. his heart was beating fast.

lily potter knew alcohol.

and sirius knew he wanted to be drunk. so that is why he was shrouded in a corner of the muggle pub he'd found down the street. it was a small pub, not too bright, perfect for sketchy things that went down the history of crimes. the pub had seen it all too- from drug dealing to murder.

the floor was sticky, and the air reeked of beer, sweat and thick british accents from the throats of old men with wobbly chins whose life's purpose was to stare at young girls to creep them out. within the loud music their obnoxious laughter and comments reached sirius' ears.

slowly as the alcohol reached into his system, he felt the warmth of the blood rush into his face. he felt his heart drown and mind dense with the fifth glass that went down his throat. along with the alcohol, went down his senses as he attached his lips to a girl and took her home.

in a haze, he stripped apart her clothes, feeling her body. he buried his nose into her neck, biting, kissing, licking and touching every bit of her bare skin. she got rid of his pants, pumping him into erection.

he'd not felt this touch, hot and alive for so long. he wondered if he would crumble under his touch. but as a teenager, he remembered sex being his coping mechanism. it was when he was high upon hormones he couldn't control.

but now that he pushed himself into her, the warmth of her body trying to defrost the coldness within him, he felt himself crumble. hot and slow, he thrusted, trying to warm the cold, poisonous blood that drowned his heart.

but his mind was suddenly running, when in a faint flashback, he was reminded of your smile. he felt the his heart drowning into a pool of guilt. yet, the pleasure of the sound of your laughter echoed, and he felt his sky fall, crumble and shatter till there was no more serenity left, till he succumbed into pure madness.