pairing- sirius black x auror!reader
warning(s)- hurt/comfort, mentions of child abuse, substances.
a/n- we're going so back on track with the angst after a couple more chapters 🥲
the taste of the cigarettes lingers upon your taste buds. you exhale out the smoke, watching it ascend into the night sky. it fuses with the wind, dancing with it, before evaporating all together. you lean towards the railing of the balcony, watching the cars pass by. the stars shine down upon you and sirius. he stands close, taking a puff from the cigarette that you'd passed to him.
he was standing closer to you. closer than you'd usually like. but in your imagination, he was still the fragile man who'd been freed from the unjust laws of the ministry a few days ago. in your imagination, he was still broken, who was trying to climb up each and every step towards freedom carefully.
'i don't know how you were so calm when harry came out. i hated how they treated him,' you said, breaking the serene silence. he laughs bitterly.
'neither do i, sweetheart,' he turns his head, handing you the the cigarette, 'perhaps, that's the work of my mother, you know, unconsciously teaching me to be rational during situations when i feel the need to lash out,'
you stare into his eyes. in them, you find a depth. in them you allow yourself to drown. it's as if he's a wounded hawk, crying quietly for the ones who left. it's hauntingly cold, when your lip quivers, when you try to speak. a lump forms in your throat, a strange warmth filling your body.
he doesn't urge you to speak. he allows you to stay silent. he lets the silence surround you into an escapable reflection of your body, soul and heart. it creeps into you, barricading with your ghosts. relentlessly, you find the words pouring back into your mind.
'i s'ppose so. i don't have great sympathy for parents who are complete assholes.' you say. its as if warm poisonous blood spreads throughout your throat. he moves closer to you. you smell the scent of petrol and his shampoo infused with the scent of burning tobacco. you tuck your lower lip underneath your teeth.
'why not?' he asks, after a painful silence. his hand nears your face, and for the first time in years, you flinch. he cradles your cheek, smoothening his thumb over your skin. you find yourself sinking into the warmth of the cold and calloused finger tips running over your skin.
'my parents were muggles. everything was fine...until it was not. when mcgonagall showed up at our doorstep on the evening of 25th August around 1976, everything changed. my parents showed their true colors...which weren't very pretty. in a span of few years, the insults they spewed towards the prejudice of our kind turned into physical abuse. my mom turned into a fanatic alcoholic, living on bottles of expensive booze and cigarettes. my dad turned into a cheater with hundreds of mistresses. money was low, and they couldn't afford to send me to hogwarts with the new books or uniforms. but that wasn't the issue. the issue was the only time they united was when it was to beat me. i had nowhere to go, no friends no extended family who could take me in. yet i left.'
sirius listens to you intently. for the first time, in your life yourself to be speaking your heart without being afraid, without falling apart into shackles.
but life seemed a little better when he lingered by your side, listening to you. it seemed you too, were no different than him. perhaps he was the one who was parallel on the other side.
finding courage fill yourself up, you graze your fingers with his. he clasps them, threading them into yours. he rubs little circles on the back of your hand. he smiles comfortingly.
'did you know what prongs used to do when we were sad? he used to play music and forced us all to dance,' he removes his hand from your cheek, putting it on the small of your back. he pulls you towards his body, putting your hand on his shoulder, 'perhaps he didn't know what would comfort us,' he flicks his wrist, turning on the record in the living room. 'but he tried his best. and it did comfort us,'
YOU ARE READING
the hurricane with my name
Fanfictionsirius can't escape the cruel bondage of fate that ties him together with his pasts, tying him down to the ghosts. he seems to be stuck in a loop, where he tries to search for a home, with a carnal desire of freedom. little does he know his home is...
