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HOGWARTS. september 5th, 1976.
WHEN SIRIUS FINALLY MADE IT BACK TO CROW'S ROOM, HE WAS RELIEVED TO FIND ESTELLE ASLEEP. His relief was short lived when she turned over to look at him, narrowing her eyes at his appareance.
His hair was a mess and his lips were swollen and red, his skin lined with a thin sheen of sweat. Looking down towards his neck, she saw a growing bruise just above his collar bone and scoffed.
"What took so long?" She asked, covering her mouth as she yawned. Glancing towards the clock on the wall, she saw that it was nearly three in the morning. She hadn't seen him since his outburst, not that she'd wanted to, but isolation often got to her head.
Sirius froze, instinctually bringing his hand to his neck to hide his bruise. He coughed, offering a her a crooked smile which went unreturned.
"I had a heart to heart with Regulus. Matter of fact, we fixed everything," he lied easily, gingerly taking a few steps towards her. She eyed him warily, watching as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
If she didn't know him any better, she would have assumed he was telling the truth. He was exceptional liar. His voice never waved, nor did he ever cease to hold eye contact. Looking in from the outside, Sirius Black's body language screamed that he was telling the truth, but Estelle knew his tell.
It was a barely noticeable gesture; one that would surely be missed if you didn't know where to look. Everytime he lied, Sirius' lip would twitch. It was a agonizingly small twitch but a twitch none the less.
With another scoff, Estelle sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. "You lied just then," she accused, watching as he narrowed his eyes. "I did not," he defended himself with a huff, his eyes never leaving hers.
Another twitch.
"Who was it this time?" Estelle asked, swiftly changing the subject. At her question, Sirius raised a brow and frowned. "Pardon?"
"Who'd you have sex with this time?" She asked again, this time a bit louder. She saw his cheeks flush for a second before he quickly composed himself with a ghost of a grin.
He shifted on the bed, his eyes falling to the shirt she wore. He had seen it loads of times but never off of his own body. Deciding not to dwell on the fact, he instead cocked his head to the side.
"What are you on about?" He countered, watching as she drew her lip between her teeth with a scowl. He knew that she wasn't daft but making her agitated was something he happened to enjoy.
The second he met her eyes again, he knew soemthing was off. It was as if their minds had been connected by a rubber band on the verge of snapping, and when it did, he instantly felt her pulled into the depths of his thoughts.
