His Star
"Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day
give me something, oh, but you say nothing."
Again, after another miserable day of smoking fags and shagging Grant, who, he supposed, was his boyfriend now, Remus ran out of distractions thus, he began to think of someone who was so far away, that he was everywhere he went.
Everything he had seen could be a message from Sirius, saying that he loved him. But he was sensible enough to assume it wasn’t.
All it would take was one legitimate sign.
One sign that it wasn’t Sirius that committed these crimes, and he would go rushing into Azkaban to save him.
He wasn’t sure where he would find this sign, after abandoning any and everything related to the wizarding world but he was hopeful. Well, as hopeful as one could be when they had nothing that was any type of realistic to look forward to.
If all that had occurred between him and Sirius had been a lie, all twenty-something years, then the relationship he yearned for had been nothing but one sided in the first place.
But that couldn’t be true, he thought. Sirius must have cared about him, at least at some point.
Why else would he have worked so hard to find a spell so he could read?
Why else would he have become an animagus and accompanied him every full moon?
None of it made sense.
Remus left the sleeping body next to him, walking down the flight of stairs that led to the flat. No, not the flat, he corrected, it was their flat. His and Sirius’s flat. If they were even a thing anymore. When he finally made it outside, he gazed intensely at the sky, his eyes settling on Sirius. For the first time in his life, he began to pray. Not to any god, just to the star. His star.
Padfoot, if you can hear me, tell me you didn’t do it.
Tell me you didn’t do it.
I love you
That's all he could say before unshed tears threatened to roll down his cheeks and he dejectedly retreated into the building.