Chapter 2
sirius’s black’s pov
The bitter, cold air of October slapped against Sirius’s pale, dry skin and his cracked, bloody mauve lips, making his tangled, frizzy curls fly out behind him.
He sat perched on the edge of the cliff, his dull grey eyes looking lifeless as they gazed out into the angry blue sea of cornwall. The foamy waves beat against the graphite cliffs, and the moon glared down at sirius tauntingly.
He could do this. He wasn’t a fucking pussy.
Somewhere in Sirius felt like he was betraying Remus. He’d probably be looking for Sirius right now, his stupid brown eyes filled with worry and tears.
Stupid Remus.
Why couldn’t he just hate Sirius? Make it easier for him. Why couldn’t he make it easier for Sirius to close his eyes and give up. Why did he have to make Sirius leave him behind.
After the Prank, Remus should’ve never even given Sirius a sideways glance.
He should’ve thrown Sirius’s “final” message away, given up on him. Sirius didn’t deserve his compassion. He didn’t deserve love, he was too much of a pathetic bastard. He lost his brother. Both of his brothers.
It was his fault that Regulus wasn’t here today, playing the Piano, hanging out with his stupid friends in Ravenclaw, teaching Kreacher to write.
Sirius could’ve stayed at home. Could’ve taken his mother’s abuse for a couple more years.
He was used to it. The crucio couldn’t have been *that* bad, could it? He should’ve just dealt with it. Maybe then Regulus would’ve stayed the fuck away from Voldemort. He would’ve been alive. Happy. Probably.
James should’ve never made friends with Sirius. He should’ve listened to Peter, and stayed away from him.
Peter was fucking right. Sirius was a monster.
Peter had taken everything from him. His best friend. His freedom. The love of his life.
But Sirius couldn’t even muster up the courage to hate him.
Sirius deserved to be tortured. He was *disgusting*. A traitor to everyone. He didn’t belong anywhere.
He deserved to be gone.