Seven Deadly Sins - pride
Author: bookstars
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairing: Sirius Black/James Potter
Prompt: Pride
Word Count: 735
Rating: A strong PG-13.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Potterverse, don't sue me - I'm broke. xD
Author's Notes: This is my first challenge... I had most of this previously sketched out but never posted anywhere. Inspired, I finished it up and here we are. My only warning is a bit of angst, which will probably prevail through my seven fics. :P Not beta-d, so all mistakes are my own.
She’s touching him on the common room couch as if it were normal, as if it was her bloody right and it’s all a bit too much to swallow, so Sirius turns away. They’ve been at it for twenty-seven minutes and if the haughty seventh year was a bit less of a masochist and perhaps had a bit less of that Black family pride, he would have left the room. Helpless, he is at his vision’s mercy; it feels as if he’s glued to his position in the overstuffed armchair. The chair faces the fire but the couch is easily in his range of view, and Sirius has to concentrate firmly on the dancing flames to ignore the flickering tongue that comes from Evans’ mouth, touching James’ neck as if she had been doing it forever.
Two months is not forever. Not even close, Sirius thinks bitterly. Forever is three and a half years worth of dust-speckled sunsets and stolen kisses. Forever is falling into open arms and a warm four-poster bed. Forever is closing your eyes and knowing who you’ll see when you open them. Forever is knowing that he’s still beside you. Except for now, a traitorous voice reminds him. Except now.
He swallows thickly and wishes it didn’t hurt so much. James is still his brother, his best mate. Sirius knew from the beginning that forever was just a dream, a myth made for boys and girls who fall in love with each other and have babies, not for pureblood misfits who fall terribly in love with their best mates. He knew, and yet he fell into it quite willingly; he knew he would suffer, and a part of him still knows that every single moment was worth the pain… but it still hurts.
I need to get over this, Sirius realizes, as he watches James’ hand creep up Lily’s leg from the corner of his eye. James has been waiting forever - that word again! - for Evans to come around. Evans has been waiting forever for James to detach himself from the pranksters. All Sirius needs is something that he’s been waiting forever for. The only problem is that he’s wasted all his forevers wanting James.
To hide the scowl on his features, the aristocrat raises his thumb to his mouth and absently bites the short nail there. It takes all of his will to stay seated on the chair. He will not move, because if he does, then he has lost. Of course, he had already lost; he was lost the moment James came to him with averted eyes and awkward gestures, trying to explain that things were over. They were still best mates, of course, but “things had to stop”. James had said it like it was going to be that easy, when he knew the truth, yet Marauders are Marauders: masters of deceit and lies. But Sirius would be damned if he lost round two.
The boy gives up gnawing on his nail and instead gnaws on his bottom lip, thinking of that last night. He cringes to remember how desperate he sounded, pleading in a hissing whisper for something solid to remember, for a last kiss. James had agreed silently, moving towards Sirius with a fluency born of years of endless trysts. Sirius remembers how he held off his tears, but as James’ lips left his for the last time, they spilled forward vulnerably. Ashamed, he had tried to wipe them away with one hand, the other fisted at his side, and James had flicked his forefinger deftly across the boy’s cheek, lingering the touch in a bittersweet, apologetic moment.
Watching James with Evans now, Sirius felt that the moment was farther away than two months. It was ages ago. Forever ago. His gaze moved towards them, and nothing but his own stubborn arrogance, that damned Black pride keeps him there. He watches James tangle his hand in her red hair and strains to hear him gasp as they come up for air. There is a second when James looks past her and grey eyes meet hazel. Sirius’ heart stammers out two frantic eighth notes. He suddenly feels allergic to James gaze and leaves the common room through the portrait hole, startled and a little embarrassed.
He is halfway across the castle when he decides that pride is overrated and maybe forever is a long time to wait.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairing: Sirius Black/James Potter
Prompt: Pride
Word Count: 735
Rating: A strong PG-13.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Potterverse, don't sue me - I'm broke. xD
Author's Notes: This is my first challenge... I had most of this previously sketched out but never posted anywhere. Inspired, I finished it up and here we are. My only warning is a bit of angst, which will probably prevail through my seven fics. :P Not beta-d, so all mistakes are my own.
She’s touching him on the common room couch as if it were normal, as if it was her bloody right and it’s all a bit too much to swallow, so Sirius turns away. They’ve been at it for twenty-seven minutes and if the haughty seventh year was a bit less of a masochist and perhaps had a bit less of that Black family pride, he would have left the room. Helpless, he is at his vision’s mercy; it feels as if he’s glued to his position in the overstuffed armchair. The chair faces the fire but the couch is easily in his range of view, and Sirius has to concentrate firmly on the dancing flames to ignore the flickering tongue that comes from Evans’ mouth, touching James’ neck as if she had been doing it forever.
Two months is not forever. Not even close, Sirius thinks bitterly. Forever is three and a half years worth of dust-speckled sunsets and stolen kisses. Forever is falling into open arms and a warm four-poster bed. Forever is closing your eyes and knowing who you’ll see when you open them. Forever is knowing that he’s still beside you. Except for now, a traitorous voice reminds him. Except now.
He swallows thickly and wishes it didn’t hurt so much. James is still his brother, his best mate. Sirius knew from the beginning that forever was just a dream, a myth made for boys and girls who fall in love with each other and have babies, not for pureblood misfits who fall terribly in love with their best mates. He knew, and yet he fell into it quite willingly; he knew he would suffer, and a part of him still knows that every single moment was worth the pain… but it still hurts.
I need to get over this, Sirius realizes, as he watches James’ hand creep up Lily’s leg from the corner of his eye. James has been waiting forever - that word again! - for Evans to come around. Evans has been waiting forever for James to detach himself from the pranksters. All Sirius needs is something that he’s been waiting forever for. The only problem is that he’s wasted all his forevers wanting James.
To hide the scowl on his features, the aristocrat raises his thumb to his mouth and absently bites the short nail there. It takes all of his will to stay seated on the chair. He will not move, because if he does, then he has lost. Of course, he had already lost; he was lost the moment James came to him with averted eyes and awkward gestures, trying to explain that things were over. They were still best mates, of course, but “things had to stop”. James had said it like it was going to be that easy, when he knew the truth, yet Marauders are Marauders: masters of deceit and lies. But Sirius would be damned if he lost round two.
The boy gives up gnawing on his nail and instead gnaws on his bottom lip, thinking of that last night. He cringes to remember how desperate he sounded, pleading in a hissing whisper for something solid to remember, for a last kiss. James had agreed silently, moving towards Sirius with a fluency born of years of endless trysts. Sirius remembers how he held off his tears, but as James’ lips left his for the last time, they spilled forward vulnerably. Ashamed, he had tried to wipe them away with one hand, the other fisted at his side, and James had flicked his forefinger deftly across the boy’s cheek, lingering the touch in a bittersweet, apologetic moment.
Watching James with Evans now, Sirius felt that the moment was farther away than two months. It was ages ago. Forever ago. His gaze moved towards them, and nothing but his own stubborn arrogance, that damned Black pride keeps him there. He watches James tangle his hand in her red hair and strains to hear him gasp as they come up for air. There is a second when James looks past her and grey eyes meet hazel. Sirius’ heart stammers out two frantic eighth notes. He suddenly feels allergic to James gaze and leaves the common room through the portrait hole, startled and a little embarrassed.
He is halfway across the castle when he decides that pride is overrated and maybe forever is a long time to wait.