It's strange how vivid the painful memories remain, but then,
so do the beautiful. Like blood and roses. And when the image of your face is
always silhouetted at the back of my mind, and your name still velvet and
natural on my tongue, it makes it hard to forget. I'll be lying if I said I try,
because I don't, since these bittersweet memories are all I have of you, amidst
the wistful agony.
It was the night of Hallowe'en, and the dry air
was cold, penetrated by a frost too chilly to be born of nature. Shafts of
crescent moonlight slanted into our bedroom like pearly mist, the breath of an
unearthly life.
You thought I was already asleep, but I wasn't.
Werewolves never sleep in troubled times, and that's how I knew you lay awake
the entire night, sleepless as I was. And as I listened to your soft, steady
breathing, I wondered how such pretences found their way between us, that we
both remained so solitary even in the same bed. It didn't used to be that way,
being so near you yet so far, and it hurt, it really did.
You slipped out
of bed soundlessly, your silent withdrawal echoing deafeningly in my
ears.
"Where are you going, Sirius?" I asked quietly, still facing away
from you. You started, drawing a sharp breath, and I could sense the guilt in
your reaction without even turning around.
"It's nothing," you lied,
convincingly enough, but you forgot it was me you were talking to. "Go back to
sleep, Remus."
In the darkness, your voice sliced off a little part of me
deep inside. It was the same evasive tone each time I asked you about James and
Lily, the sudden shiftiness in your manner. I've been the subject of mistrust
almost all my life, Sirius, but from you it was heartbreaking.
I opened
my mouth to speak, then suddenly I realised that I didn't have anything to say,
that I was tired of talking when I knew you weren't listening. Something had
altered between us, Sirius, and it closed your mind and shuttered your heart,
leaving me in the confused darkness inherent in my nature, which being with you
almost made me forget.
Volumes of pain and silence and unspoken words
settled between us, freezing over.
Finally I couldn't stand it any
longer. I ventured forth tentatively, like walking on slippery ice, almost
desperately grasping for reassurance just a whisper out of reach.
"Will
you come back?"
My question was plaintive, heartfelt, and I never felt
like I needed you more than at that moment, when you were leaving.
And
then you smiled, the warmth of your sincerity melting away the icicles that
covered the intangible distance between us, and for the briefest of moments it
felt so right, like the way we used to be. I grappled with the precious feeling,
unwilling to let it slip away as it ebbed and flowed, as you came near the bed
and sat down close to me.
"Of course I will."
You sounded so
confident, self-assured, like you always were, and naturally I believed you,
like I always did.
I smiled at you, my most real and genuine smile in a
long time, and watched a conflicting emotion flit briefly across your face,
before you leaned forward and kissed me.
Your lips were warm as they
brushed against mine, gentle yet possessive, firm but tender. My eyes fell
closed as I surrendered to you, linking my arms behind your neck, pulling you
closer to me, the physical intimacy almost filling the emotional void. And you
responded, kissing me back, a rare passion rising in your lips, raw and
exquisite like the first time we ever kissed.
When you pulled away, I was
breathless, hungering for more. But I didn't show it, stifling my yearning
within me, where it now still aches and burns for you. In the pale darkness,
your eyes glittered silver in the moonlight, the colour of my need and your
want, too heartfelt to be articulated, too intense to be silenced.
I knew
you were waiting for me to say something, to speak my thoughts, to give voice to
my feelings.
Would you have stayed if I asked you to?
Now I'll
never know.
You finally smiled, your lips touched with sadness and
melancholy, and you ran your fingertips lightly through my hair, smoothing it
back, calming me with your feathery caresses. I closed my eyes, at a loss for
words, and for one fleeting moment all that ran through my mind were images of
warm sand against my back and sunlight on my face, and you.
You got to
your feet noiselessly, gracefully, as if you were the one who had the blood of
the untamed running through your veins. I lifted my face slightly to meet your
steady gaze, and you trailed a finger along my jaw, stroking the pain and
loneliness that would return in your wake.
No goodbyes, no I love yous.
Just a look that said all those words and so much more in a poignant, meaningful
glance, and with that you turned and walked away.
I didn't want to let
you go.
But you still left, and you never looked back.
Now I
wish I could keep my face toward the chilly wind, with the sand in my eyes, and
not look back. It still hurts to look back, the shadows paved with memories of
the times we shared, the sound of your laughter mingled with the reality of your
betrayal, the taste of our last kiss still lingering in my mind.
It's no
use remembering, but there's no way I can ever forget.
Will you
come back?
Every night when I'm alone I still ask the question,
shouting it wordlessly into an echoing silence that never
answers.