all i want for christmas ── sirius black

SIX

NINETEEN-SEVENTY-SEVEN
and the tombstone said in its mossy breath
he loved a girl

DEAFENING COUGHS wracked around the dormitory as Sirius Black lay, buried behind the dark depths of the scarlet curtains surrounding his bed. It was the twentieth of December, and yet he couldn't have been less excited for Christmas. Naturally, being Callie's boyfriend came with an overwhelming adoration for the holidays, but with the brutal cold that had infected him, he couldn't muster any energy or strength to induce even an ounce of enthusiasm for it.

Callie Carter herself wasn't as excited as she usually expected. She detested seeing her Sirius —usually so exuberant and in-your-face — becoming so fatigued and quiet, hiding away in his room. As soon as she entered his room on the twentieth, laden down with an overflowing bag, she felt a frown stitch its way onto her lips at the sound of his violent coughing. 

She yanked back his curtains, and he groaned dramatically, shielding his eyes from the obnoxious invasion of light that shone over his four-poster. Although initially angry at the disruption to his pity party, his features softened considerably when he latched his focus onto Callie, and he parted the covers, welcoming her into the bed with evident joy. 

"Don't come too close. You'll get sick," he mumbled, inching away from her towards the pillows as she took her place at the bottom of the bed.

"Oh, do be quiet. Being ill is worth it to be around you," she commanded, and she reached forward, pressing a reassuring kiss to his knuckles.

"Now isn't the time to be sweet, love. I think I'm dying," he complained, and she let out a slight giggle at his ostentatious statement. He was always such a drama-queen, and yet Callie didn't know what she'd do without his theatricality.

"I'm not joking! Why don't wizards have spells to make us better? Is there anything muggle that works? I'm desperate — I can't be ill on Christmas!"

She observed him complain almost in awe, surprised by how much he'd come to love the festive season. He reminded her, in that moment, of a little boy who still believed in Santa, desperate to get better for the biggest day of the year. Hating to be the bearer of bad news, she shook her head sadly, pulling her bag into her lap as if its contents might be of some consolation. 

"I'm sorry, love. Look, I brought some presents," she offered, holding up the bag before opening it to reveal the variety of gifts she'd brought to tide him over his sickness.

Firstly, she pulled out a silver flask, thrusting it over into his hand. Sirius lifted it before his face, eyeing it suspiciously before glancing at her with confusion. She laughed at his bizarre observations, treating the foreign object so obscurely it was as if he'd never seen a flask before. Then again, maybe he hadn't.

"Chicken noodle soup. Open it up, drink some. It's a must when you're ill, always make you feel better. Trust me," she insisted warmly. 

A smile broke out onto her lips as he popped open the lid, attempting to chug the liquid had it not been for the heat. Immediately, he winced, having burnt his tongue on the soup, and Callie rolled her eyes as he set the flask aside on his dresser to cool.

"I also got you some peppermint tea. I remembered you liked it that time you had it at Moony's, and it's really good to stop you feeling sick." 

She smiled, setting another flask down beside him, to which he offered her a beaming smile of appreciation in response.

"You didn't need to do all this, Cal," he said, smiling softly at her and reaching out for her hand to squeeze.

What people didn't know — and would never have guessed until Callie arrived on the scene — was that Sirius Black had an incredibly soft side. He was kind, generous, grateful, and it was especially surprising for the girls who fawned over him to see him drop his 'bad-boy' act around the ones he loved. He still wore his signature leather jacket, and he still listened to the same old rock music, but his hardcore persona seemed to flicker aside immediately when his girlfriend arrived.

Next, she delved into her bag and revealed a fluffy, plaid blanket that almost matched the decor of the dormitory perfectly. She reached over, draping it around his shoulders and grinning at how positively adorable he looked underneath it. As he appreciated the newfound warmth, she unveiled several other items, from throat lozenges to cosy socks — all sorts of things that would make Sirius feel more comfortable and hopefully improve his health.

"D'you know you're the best girlfriend in the history of girlfriends?" he said, admiring at the array of presents she'd given him for almost no reason at all.

"You might've mentioned it to me before." She chuckled. "Can I get a hug?"

Sirius contemplated it for a moment — the last thing he wanted was for her to suffer — but with Callie as irresistible as ever, he found it hard to say no. Wordlessly, he opened his arms, and jovially, she dove in between them, resting her head against his chest. They lay there together, nestled beneath the layers of knitted blankets and tangled limbs.

"D'you think I'll get better for Christmas," Sirius mumbled, brushing circles into her upper arm with his fingertips as he peered down at her fondly.

"Even if you don't, it's alright, love. We'll still have a great day as long as we're together, yeah?" She leaned up, pressing a kiss to his jaw as she cuddled closer into his welcoming warmth. "We'll still be with James and his family, and we'll still have all the presents and food you can even imagine. Only difference is you'll be a little bit congested."

"You're right, I suppose. I just want the day to be perfect. I know how much you love it and I don't want to spoil it being ill," he murmured into her hair, closing his eyes as he placed his focus on the calming sounds of their peaceful surroundings. 

"Any day with you is perfect, Sirius. Honestly, don't worry." 

She tilted her chin upwards to face him, taking in every single breathtaking feature — from the sharp curve of his jawline to his gentle grey eyes, the silky colour of smoke on bonfire's night. Sometimes, she wondered how she had managed to seduce someone so flawless into dating her.

Sirius grinned at her, heart swelling as he wrapped her instinctively closer to his chest. He pressed a delicate kiss against her forehead, feeling her smooth skin beneath his chapped lips. He hesitated for a minute, considering his next words with a careful precision that he did not often utilise in spur-of-the-moment life.

"I love you, Callie," he mumbled, almost inaudible as he whispered into her ear.

Despite the quiet, it was the clearest thing she'd ever heard in her life. Callie felt tears stinging her eyes as the words passed his lips, and she spun around to face him, her arms wrapping around his neck as a soft smile painted itself onto her lips.

"I've been waiting for you to say it. I love you too, Sirius," she responded, eyes crinkling with the fragile tell-tale signs of delight.

She smiled, and before she could think of the consequences, she pressed her lips to his, kissing him with fervently as his hands fell to her waist. They stayed that way for a short, heated moment, thinking of nothing but the absolute adoration they had for one another. Sirius had gripped onto her waist, holding her thin frame against him as they kissed. Then, abruptly, he broke away, looking abnormally stressed considering the sentiment of their embrace.

"Fuck, you're gonna get ill, sweetheart," he gasped, eyes wide as he spoke, but she simply rolled her eyes and chuckled softly.

"It's worth it to kiss you," she said, squeezing his hand as she rested forehead carefully against his. "I suppose we'll just both have to be ill on Christmas."