Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THIRTEEN THE VELVET OF THE NIGHT SKY
🍒💌🕊
AT THE SOUND OF THE VOICE, Ina glances up, but the almost immediately after, turns her face away when she realizes the figure shrouded in the dark is none other than Sirius Black.
The footsteps grow louder as he walks forward, and she makes a quick swipe at her eyes in an attempt to dry them, before clearing her throat.
"It is you," he comments, coming to a stop at the railing next to her.
She keeps her eyes trained on the grounds below.
"Oh, um," her voices comes out hoarse and choked, and she winces. "Yes. Hello."
"What are you doing up here so late at night, Patel?"
He glances at her, and she does her best to not let him see her face, painfully aware of just how red her eyes must be by now.
"You know, just stargazing..." She answers vaguely. Somewhere off in the distance, an owl hoots softly.
It's a lame answer, and she knows it—Sirius must as well. After all, it is so cloudy tonight that she can only make out the vague silhouette of the constellations.
For a moment, Ina think he's going to respond with something witty as usual. The type of comment that is funny—at least, she imagines, because the joke mostly ends up going over her head.
And then to her surprise, he just sighs, his shoulders slumping as he looks up to the sky as well.
"I suppose this is the part where I pretend that I haven't noticed that you look like you've been crying, huh?" He says instead, his eyes focused on the stars as he leans onto his elbows against the railing.
Startled, Ina's gaze shoots to him.
"W-What do you—" She starts, but he interrupts her before she can finish, his eyes falling onto her face as he turns to look at her.
"Your eyes are like, really red."
Ina is ready to protest again, but—well, in the light of the moon, she's finally able to see his face for the first time. She is surprised to find that his eyes are sincere as he says it. She doesn't find any pity or mocking as she expected, just an open and oddly supportive gaze, and she falters.
And then, her stare fall on the deep bags sunken underneath his eyes, and tired droop of his dark eyelids, and she decides there really is no point in denying it—not when he looks just as miserable as she feels.
