One Step Ahead Part II | Sirius Black

Chapter 226

His smile fades and he stares at her silently. She gives him what he never was able to give her, at least not at first. She gives him the opportunity to have his secrets, ones that he hopes he never has to speak of. Secrets about how he thinks Peter is going to die because of him, and he's okay with it so long as she stays safe. He would check on his friend tomorrow anyway, just to be sure that he was doing alright. He's nearly sick over the thought of visiting the leaning, brown home again. Though perhaps it's the guilt that makes him nauseated. It didn't matter. So long as he can focus on protecting Gwen, keeping her secrets. She gives him his secrets and she loves him just the same. She doesn't know what he was doing with Peter, she has absolutely no idea that he was with James, that tomorrow Sirius would ask his mousy friend if he was sure that he was still up to the job and pray that Peter wouldn't cower in the face of danger like he had so many times before. She doesn't know, and she's okay with not knowing.

Sirius weaves his fingers through her hair, his whisper a song of uncertainty, "Do you believe in fate, Ninnie?"

Her eyes grow softer at the nickname. He hadn't used it. Not since Marlene had. But the Veela was stronger now, her grief had washed away slowly with the tide, with a few bittersweet reminders of pain and friendship that still sometimes dulled the intuitive sparkle of her aura. She settles her hands on his knees that rest on either side of her, a small smile lifting one side of her lips. "I don't know. Do you?"

Sirius smiles too, heart aching with love for her. He would sacrifice anything for her. Everything. He never would have imagined getting here, finding anything that he could love unconditionally. He had never been taught that kind of love. He was glad they learned together.

"I don't know," He says in agreement. "I don't know if I would call it fate."

She tilts her head slightly, and he grins at the expression on her face. Flat, plain. Listening. She was always listening. He bites back a laugh when she tries to shift under neath his weight. He'd move soon. Just not yet. She finally asks boredly, "Call what?"

He presses his thumbs against her temples gently, voice just as soft, "Finding you."

She stares at him, blinking only after a few long moments have passed. Sirius shifts uncomfortably before standing and grumbling, "This is where you say how wonderful I am."

Gwen stands too, scooting her chair back from the writing desk so that there is room for both of them between the two pieces of furniture. Her eyes glint with words he's certain she'll never say, but that just means the ones he does get to hear mean so much more. She reaches up, grazing her thumb across his cheekbone before settling her hand along the side of his neck. Her palm is warm, she could burn him. She could use her wild charm and magic and bring him to his knees. But her words do that instead, "I don't believe in fate. I think that you and I are simply links in a never ending chain of discovery and war and birth and death." His heart turns to fire as her cheeks turn pink, "Maybe I was meant to meet you, to love you. Maybe. But what I believe in, what makes me feel safe and happy and loved, is my ability to choose."

Sirius' hands grip at her shirt to steady themselves when she smiles. He wants it tattooed across his chest, under the symbol that unites them. Not that they needed it. Their hearts, their minds. Their souls, entwined like a family of constellations yet to be discovered. Gwen tilts her head to the side, saying calmly, "I would choose you. Over and over. Even if fate were to exist in an obvious sort of way and compel me to love someone else, I think I would still somehow find away to choose you. It's our choices that make us who we are, Sirius. I would hate to think that our lives are already written out for us line by line. It seems like a rather boring sort of existence."

The last few words come out muffled, his mouth on her's in a desperate attempt to taste her wisdom. He needed it, craved it, damned himself for it. He drags his tongue against her's, reaching down to grab at her legs and pull her up into his chest. She comes willingly, her knees pressing against his sides, ankles locking behind his back. Sirius pulls back from her lips only so that he won't trip as he makes a very quick few strides to the stairs. Gwen laughs into his hair, sticking out a hand to steady a portrait that he had a habit of knocking his shoulder into. He'd never confess that he did it on purpose, always disturbed the portrait of her standing next to him while they watched their friends wreak havoc in the Potter's back yard. Because if he bumped into it, made it crooked so that the frame tilted and looked odd, she would have to stand there and stare at it to make sure it was centered on the wall. He would never confess that he made her look at that picture, and she would never confess that she knew.