Sad Prayers For Guilty Bodies

Eyes closed, Sirius stepped blindly into the light.
My heart jumped into my throat and I started sprinting toward him.
"Sirius!"
It was only when his eyes flashed open and I got close enough to begin to understand what I was seeing that I realized he hadn't caught on fire.
He threw up his hand again, palm forward, and I stumbled to a stop, almost falling to my knees.
The light blazed off his skin, danced in prism-like rainbows across his face and neck, down his arms. He was so bright that I had to squint, like I was trying to stare at the sun.
I thought about falling to my knees on purpose. This was the kind of beauty you worshipped. The kind you built temples for and offered sacrifices to. I wished I had something in my empty hands to give him, but what would a god want from a mediocre mortal like me?
It took me a while to see past his incandescence to the expression on his face. He was watching me with wide eyes-it almost looked like he was afraid of something. I took a step toward him, and he cringed just slightly.
"Does that hurt you?" I whispered.
"No," he whispered back.
I took another step toward him.
He was the magnet again, and I was just a helpless piece of dull metal. He let his warning hand drop to his side. As he moved, the fire shimmered down his arm. Slowly, I circled around him, keeping my distance, just needing to absorb this, to see him from every angle. The sun played off his skin, refracting and magnifying every color light could hold. My eyes were adjusting, and they opened wide with wonder.
I knew that he'd chosen his clothes with care, that he'd been determined to show me this, but the way he held himself now, shoulders tight, legs braced, made me wonder if he wasn't second-guessing the decision now.
I finished my circle, then closed the last few feet between us. I couldn't stop staring, even to blink.
"Sirius," I breathed.
"Are you scared now?" he whispered.
"No."
He stared searchingly into my eyes, trying to hear what I was thinking.
I reached toward him, deliberately unhurried, watching his face for permission. His eyes opened even wider, and he froze. Carefully, slowly, I let my fingertips graze the glistening skin on the back of his arm. I was surprised to find it just as cold as ever. While my fingers were touching him, the reflections of the fire flickered against my skin, and suddenly my hand wasn't mediocre anymore. He was so astonishing that he could make even me less ordinary.
"What are you thinking?" he whispered.
I struggled to find words. "I am... I didn't know..." I took a deep breath, and the words finally came. "I've never seen anything more beautiful, never imagined anything so beautiful could exist."
His eyes were still wary. Like he thought I was saying what I thought he wanted to hear. But it was only the truth, maybe the truest, most uncensored thing I'd ever said in my life. I was too overwhelmed to filter or pretend.
He started to lift his hand, then dropped it. The shimmer flared. "It's very strange, though," he murmured.
"Amazing," I breathed.
"Aren't you repulsed by my flagrant lack of humanity?"
I shook my head. "Not repulsed."
His eyes narrowed. "You should be."
"I'm feeling like humanity is pretty overrated."
He pulled his arm from under my fingertips and folded it behind his back. Rather than take his cue, I took a half-step closer to him. I could feel the reflected shine on my face.
And he was suddenly ten feet away from me, his warning hand up again and his jaw clenched.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"I need some time," he told me.
"I'll be more careful."
He nodded, then walked to the middle of the meadow, making a little arc when he passed me, keeping those ten feet always between us. He sat down with his back to me, the sunlight incandescent across his shoulder blades, reminding me of wings again. I walked slowly closer, and then sat down facing him when I was about five feet away.
"Is this all right?"
He nodded, but he didn't look sure. "Just let me... concentrate."
I sat, silent, and after a few seconds, he shut his eyes again. I was fine with that. Seeing him like this, it wasn't something you could get tired of. I watched him, trying to understand the phenomenon, and he ignored me.
It was about a half hour later that suddenly he lay back on the grass with one hand behind his head. The grass was long enough to partially obscure my view.
"Can I...?" I asked.
He patted the ground beside him.
I moved a few feet closer, then another foot when he didn't object. Another few inches.
His eyes were still closed, lids glistening pale lavender over the dark fan of lashes. His chest rose and fell evenly, almost like he was asleep, except there was somehow a sense of effort and control to the motion. He seemed very aware of the process of breathing in and out.
I sat with my legs folded under me, my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands. It was very warm, the sun felt strange on my skin now that I was so used to the rain, and the meadow was still lovely, but it was just background now. It didn't stand out. I had a new definition of beauty.
His lips moved, and the light glittered off them while they... almost trembled. I thought he might have spoken, but the words were too quiet, and too fast.
"Did you... say something?" I whispered. Sitting next to him like this, watching hum shine, made me feel the need for quiet. For reverence, even.
"Just singing to myself," he murmured. "It calms me."
We didn't move for a long time-except for his lips, every now and then singing too low for me to hear. An hour might have passed, maybe more. Very gradually, the tension that I hadn't totally processed at first drained quietly away, till everything was so peaceful that I was almost sleepy. Every time I shifted my weight, I would end up another half-inch nearer to him.
I leaned closer, studying his hand, trying to find the facets in his smooth skin. Without even thinking about it, I reached out with one finger to stroke the back of his hand, awed again by the satin-smooth texture, cool like stone. I felt his eyes on me and I looked up, my finger frozen.
His eyes were peaceful, and he was smiling.
"I still don't scare you, do I?"
"Nope. Sorry."
He smiled wider. His teeth flashed in the sun.
I inched closer again, stretched out my whole hand to trace the shape of his forearm with my fingertips. I saw that my fingers were trembling. His eyes closed again.
"Do you mind?" I asked.
"No. You can't imagine how that feels."
I lightly trailed my hand over his arm, followed the faint pattern of bluish veins inside the crease at his elbow. I reached to turn his hand over, and when he realized what I wanted, he flipped his palm up in a movement so fast it didn't exist. My fingers froze.
"Sorry," he murmured, and then smiled because that was my line. His eyes slid closed again. "It's too easy to be myself with you."
I lifted his hand, turning it this way and that I as watched the sun shimmer across his palm. I held it closer to my face, trying again to find the facets.
"Tell me what you're thinking," he whispered. He was watching me again, his eyes as light as I'd ever seen them. Pale honey. "It's still so strange for me, not knowing."
"The rest of us feel that way all the time, you know."
"It's a hard life," he said, and there was a forlorn note in his tone. "But you didn't tell me."
"I was wishing I could know what you were thinking...."
"And?"
"I was wishing that I could believe that you were real. I'm afraid...."
"I don't want you to be afraid." His voice was just a low murmur. We both heard what he hadn't said-that I didn't need to be afraid, that there was nothing to fear.
"That's not the kind of fear I meant."
So quickly that I missed the movement completely, he was halfsitting, propped up on his right arm, his left palm still in my hands. His angel's face was only a few inches from mine. I should have leaned away. I was supposed to be careful.
His honey eyes burned.
"Then what are you afraid of?" he whispered.
I couldn't answer. I smelled his sweet, cool breath in my face, like I had just the one time before. Unthinkingly, I leaned closer, inhaling.
And he was gone, his hand ripped from mine so fast that they stung. In the time it took my eyes to focus, he was twenty feet away, standing at the edge of the small meadow, deep in the shade of a huge fir tree. He stared at me, eyes dark in the shadows, his expression unreadable.
I could feel the shock on my face, and my hands burned.
"Sirius. I'm... sorry." My voice was just a whisper, but I knew he could hear me.
"Give me a moment," he called, just loud enough for my less sensitive ears.
I sat very still.
After ten very long seconds, he walked back, slowly for him.
He stopped when he was still several feet away and sank gracefully to the ground, crossing his legs underneath him. His eyes never left mine. He took two deep breaths, then smiled apologetically.
"I am so very sorry." He hesitated. "Would you understand what I meant if I said I was only human?"
I nodded, not quite able to smile at his joke. Adrenaline pushed through my system as I realized what had almost happened. He could smell that from where he sat. His smile turned mocking.
"I'm the world's best predator, aren't I? Everything about me invites you in-my voice, my face, even my smell. As if I needed any of that! As if you could outrun me," he said bitterly. He stood up, took a rock from the ground, almost cracking it in half, and threw it between the threes. I couldn't see where it went but I heard a boom and sound of branches as birds flew away scared.
"As if you could fight me off," he said gently. The sound of the tree crashing to the earth echoed through the forest.
I'd never seen him so completely freed of his careful human façade. He'd never been less human... or more beautiful. I couldn't move, like a bird trapped by the eyes of a snake.
His eyes seemed to glow with excitement. Then, as the seconds passed, they dimmed. His expression slowly folded into a mask of sadness. He looked like he was about to cry, and I struggled up to my knees, one hand reaching toward him.
He held out his hand, cautioning me. "Wait." I froze again.
He took one step toward me. "Don't be afraid," he murmured, and his velvet voice was unintentionally seductive. "I promise..." He hesitated. "I swear I will not hurt you." he seemed like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince me.
"You don't have to be afraid," he whispered again as he stepped closer with exaggerated slowness. He stopped just a foot away and gently touched his hand to the one I still had stretched toward him. I wrapped mine around his tightly.
"Please forgive me," he said in a formal tone. "I can control myself. You caught me off guard. I'm on my best behavior now. I'm not thirsty today, honestly." He winked.
That made me laugh, though my laugh sounded a little winded.
"Are you all right?" he asked, reaching out-slowly, carefully-to put his other hand on top of mine.
I looked at his smooth, marble hand, and then at his eyes. They were soft, repentant, but I could see some of the sadness still in them.
I smiled up at him so widely that my cheeks hurt. His answering smile was dazzling.
With a deliberately unhurried, sinuous movement, he sank down, curling his legs beneath him. Awkwardly I copied him, till we were sitting facing each other, knees touching, our hands still wrapped together between us.
"So where were we, before I behaved so rudely?"
"I honestly have no idea."
He smiled, but his face was ashamed. "I think we were talking about why you were afraid, besides the obvious reason."
"Oh, right."
"Well?"
I looked down at our hands, turning mine so that the light would glisten across his.
"How easily frustrated I am," he sighed.
I looked into his eyes, suddenly realizing that this was every bit as new to him as it was to me. However many years of experience he'd had before we'd met, this was hard for him, too. That made me braver.
"I was afraid... because for, well, obvious reasons, I probably can't stay with you, can I? And that's what I want, much more than I should."
"Yes," he agreed slowly. "Being with me has never been in your best interest."
I frowned.
"I should have left that first day and not come back. I should leave now." He shook her head. "I might have been able to do it then. I don't know how to do it now."
"Don't. Please."
His face turned brittle. "Don't worry. I'm essentially a selfish creature. I crave your company too much to do what I should."
"Good!"
He glared, carefully extricating his hands from mine and then folding them across his chest. His voice was harsher when he spoke again.
"You should never forget that it's not only your company I crave. Never forget that I am more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else." He stared unseeingly into the forest.
I thought for a moment.
"I don't think I understand exactly what you mean by that last part."
He looked back and smiled at me, his unpredictable mood shifting again.
"How do I explain? And without horrifying you?"
Without seeming to think about it, he placed his hand back in mine. I held it tightly. He looked at our hands.
"That's amazingly pleasant, the warmth."
A moment passed while he seemed to be arranging his thoughts.
"You know how everyone enjoys different flavors?" he began. "Some people love chocolate ice cream, others prefer strawberry?" I nodded.
"I apologize for the food analogy-I couldn't think of another way to explain."
I grinned and he grinned back, but his smile was rueful.
"You see, every person has their own scent, their own essence.... If you locked an alcoholic in a room full of stale beer, he'd drink it. But he could resist, if he wished to, if he were a recovering alcoholic. Now let's say you placed in that room a glass of hundred-year-old brandy, the rarest, finest cognac-and filled the room with its warm aroma-how do you think our alcoholic would fare then?"
We sat in silence for a minute, staring into each other's eyes, trying to read each other's thoughts.
He broke the silence first.
"Maybe that's not the right comparison. Maybe it would be too easy to turn down the brandy. Perhaps I should have made our alcoholic a heroin addict instead."
"So what you're saying is, I'm your brand of heroin?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
He smiled swiftly, seeming to appreciate my effort. "Yes, you are exactly my brand of heroin."
"Does that happen often?" I asked.
He looked across the treetops, thinking through his response.
"I spoke to my siblings about it." He still stared into the distance. "To Regulus every one of you is much the same. He's the most recent to join our family. It's a struggle for him to abstain at all. He hasn't had time to grow sensitive to the differences in smell, in flavor." He glanced swiftly at me. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine. Look, don't worry about offending me, or horrifying me, or whatever. That's the way you think. I can understand, or I can try to at least. Just explain however it makes sense to you." He took a deep breath and stared past me.
"So Regulus wasn't sure if he'd ever come across someone who was as"-he hesitated, looking for the right word-"appealing as you are to me. Which makes me think not." his eyes flickered to me. "He would remember this."
He looked away again. "Bellatrix has been on the wagon longer, so to speak, and she understood what I meant. She says twice, for her, once stronger than the other."
"And for you?"
"Never before this."
We stared at each other again. This time I broke the silence.
"What did Bellatrix do?"
It was the wrong question to ask. He cringed, and his face was suddenly tortured. I waited, but he didn't add anything.
"Okay, so I guess that was a dumb question."
He stared at me with eyes that pleaded for understanding. "Even the strongest of us fall off the wagon, don't we?"
"Are you... asking for my permission?" I whispered. A shiver rolled down my spine that had nothing to do with my freezing hands.
His eyes flew wide in shock. "No!"
"But you're saying there's no hope, right?"
I knew it wasn't normal, facing death like this without any real sense of fear. It wasn't that I was super brave, I knew that. It was just that I wouldn't have chosen differently, even knowing it would end this way.
He looked angry again, but I didn't think he was angry with me. "Of course there's hope. Of course I won't..." he left the sentence hanging. His eyes felt like they were physically burning mine. "It's different for us. Bellatrix... these were strangers she happened across. It was a long time ago. She wasn't as practiced, as careful as she is now. And she's never been as good at this as I am."
He fell silent, watching me intently as I thought it through.
"So if we'd met... oh, in a dark alley or something..."
"It took everything I had-every single year of practice and sacrifice and effort-not to jump up in the middle of that class full of children and -" he broke off, his eyes darting away from me. "When you walked past me, I could have ruined everything Orion has built for us, right then and there. If I hadn't been denying my thirst for the last... too many years, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself."
He stared at me grimly, both of us remembering.
"You must have thought I was possessed."
"I couldn't understand why. How you could hate me, just like that..."
"To me, it was like you were some kind of demon, summoned straight from my own personal hell to ruin me. The fragrance coming off your skin... I thought it would make me deranged that first day. In that one hour, I thought of a hundred different ways to lure you from the room with me, to get you alone. And I fought them each back, thinking of my family, what I could do to them. I had to run out, to get away before I could speak the words that would make you follow...."
He looked up then, his golden eyes scorching from under his lashes, hypnotic and deadly.
"You would have come," he promised.
I tried to speak calmly. "No doubt about it."
He frowned at our hands. "And then, as I tried to rearrange my schedule in a pointless attempt to avoid you, there you were-in that close, warm little room, the scent was maddening. I so very nearly took you then. There was only one other frail human there-so easily dealt with."
It was so strange, seeing my memories again, but this time with subtitles. Understanding for the first time what it had all meant, understanding the danger. Poor Mr. Cope. I flinched at the thought of how close I'd come to being inadvertently responsible for his death.
"But I resisted. I don't know how. I forced myself not to wait for you, not to follow you from the school. It was easier outside, when I couldn't smell you anymore, to think clearly, to make the right decision. I left the others near home-I was too ashamed to tell them how weak I was, they only knew something was very wrong-and then I went straight to Orion, at the hospital, to tell him I was leaving." I stared in surprise.
"I traded cars with him, he had a full tank of gas and I was afraid to stop. I didn't dare to go home, to face Walburga. She wouldn't have let me go without a fight. She would have tried to convince me that it wasn't necessary....
"By the next morning I was in Alaska." He sounded ashamed, as if he was admitting some huge display of cowardice. "I spent two days there, with some old acquaintances... but I was homesick. I hated knowing I'd upset Walburga, and the rest of them, my family. In the pure air of the mountains it was hard to believe you were so irresistible. I convinced myself it was weak to run away. I'd dealt with temptation before, not of this magnitude, not even close, but I was strong. Who were you, an insignificant human boy"-he grinned suddenly-"to chase me from the place I wanted to be? Ah, the deadly sin of pride." He shook his head. "So I came back...."
I couldn't speak.
"I took precautions, hunting, feeding more than usual before seeing you again. I was sure that I was strong enough to treat you like any other human. I was arrogant about it. It was unquestionably a complication that I couldn't simply read your thoughts to know what your reaction was to me. I wasn't used to having to go to such circuitous measures, listening to your words in Peter's mind. ... His mind isn't very original, and it was annoying to have to stoop to that. And then I couldn't know if you really meant what you were saying, or just saying what you thought your audience wanted to hear. It was all extremely irritating." He frowned at the memory.
"I wanted you to forget my behavior that first day, if possible, so I tried to talk with you like I would with any person. I was eager, actually, hoping to decipher some of your thoughts. But you were too interesting, I found myself caught up in your expressions... and every now and then you would move and the air would stir around you.... The scent would stun me again... Of course, then you were nearly crushed to death in front of my eyes. Later I thought of a perfectly good excuse for why I acted at that moment -because if I hadn't saved you, if your blood had been spilled there in front of me, I don't think I could have stopped myself from exposing us for what we are. But I only thought of that excuse later. At the time, all I could think was, Not him."
He shut his eyes, his expression agonized. For a long moment he was silent. I waited eagerly, which probably wasn't the brightest reaction. But it was such a relief to finally understand the other half of the story.
"In the hospital?" I asked.
His eyes flashed up to mine. "I was appalled. I couldn't believe I had put us in danger after all, put myself in your power-you of all people. As if I needed another motive to kill you." We both flinched as that word slipped out, and he continued quickly. "But the disaster had the opposite effect. I fought with Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Regulus when they suggested that now was the time... the worst fight we've ever had. Orion sided with me, and Andromeda." He frowned sourly when he said her name. I couldn't imagine why. "Walburga told me to do whatever I had to in order to stay." He shook his head, a little indulgent smile on his lips.
"All that next day I eavesdropped on the minds of everyone you spoke to, shocked that you kept your word. I didn't understand you at all. But I knew that I couldn't become more involved with you. I did my very best to stay as far from you as possible. And every day the perfume of your skin, your breath... it hit me as hard as the very first day."
He met my eyes again, and his were oddly tender.
"And for all that," he continued, "I'd have fared better if I had exposed us all at that first moment, than if now, here-with no witnesses and nothing to stop me-I were to hurt you."
"Why?"
"Oh, Remus." He touched my cheekbone lightly with his fingertips. A shock ran through me at this casual contact. "Remus, I couldn't survive hurting you. You don't know how it's tortured me"-he looked down, ashamed again-"the thought of you, still, white, cold... to never see your face turn red again, to never see that flash of intuition in your eyes when you see through my pretenses... I couldn't bear it." He lifted his glorious, agonized eyes to mine. "You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever."
My head was spinning at this rapid change in direction. Just minutes ago I'd thought we were talking about my imminent death. Now, suddenly, we were making declarations.
I gripped his hand tighter, staring into his golden eyes.
"You already know how I feel. I'm here because I would rather die with you than live without you." I realized how melodramatic that sounded. "Sorry, I'm an idiot."
"You are an idiot," he agreed with a laugh, and I laughed with him. This whole situation was idiocy-and impossibility and magic.
"And so the lion fell in love with the lamb," he murmured. The word was like another electric jolt to my system.
I tried to cover my reaction. "What a stupid lamb."
He sighed. "What a sick, masochistic lion."
He stared into the forest for a long time, and I wondered what he was thinking.
"Why...?" I began, but then paused, not sure how to continue.
He looked at me and smiled; sunlight shimmered off his face, his teeth. "Yes?"
"Tell me why you ran away from me before."
His smile faded. "You know why."
"No, I mean, exactly what did I do wrong? I need to learn how to make this easier for you, what I should and shouldn't do. This, for example"-I stroked my thumb across his wrist-"seems to be all right."
"You didn't do anything wrong, Remus. It was my fault."
"But I want to help."
"Well..." He thought for a moment. "It was just how close you were. Most humans instinctively shy away from us, are repelled by our alienness.... I wasn't expecting you to come so close. And the smell of your throat-" He broke off, looking to see if he'd upset me.
"Okay." I tucked my chin. "No throat exposure."
He grinned. "No, really, it was more the surprise than anything else."
He raised his free hand and placed it gently on the side of my neck. I held very still, recognizing that the chill of his touch was supposed to be a natural warning, and wondering why I couldn't feel that. I felt something else entirely.
"You see?" he said. "Perfectly fine."
My blood was racing, and I wished I could slow it down. It must make everything so much more difficult for him-the thudding pulse in my veins.
"I love that," he murmured. He carefully freed his other hand. My hands fell limp into my lap. Softly he brushed his hand across the warm patch in my cheek, then held my face between his cold hands.
"Be very still," he whispered.
I was paralyzed as he suddenly leaned into me, resting his cheek against my chest-listening to my heart. I could feel the ice of his skin through my thin shirt. With deliberate slowness his hands moved to my shoulders and his arms wrapped around my neck, holding me tight against him. I listened to the sound of his careful, even breathing, which seemed to be keeping time with my heartbeats. One breath in for every three beats, one breath out for another three.
"Ah," he said.
I don't know how long we sat without moving. It could have been hours. Eventually, the throb of my pulse quieted. I knew at any moment it could be too much, and my life could end-so quickly that I might not even notice. And I still wasn't afraid. I couldn't think of anything, except that he was touching me.
And then, too soon, he unwrapped his arms from around my neck and leaned away. His eyes were peaceful again.
"It won't be so hard again," he said with satisfaction.
"Was that very hard for you?"
"Not nearly as bad as I imagined it would be. And you?" "No, that wasn't... bad for me." We smiled at each other.
"Here." He picked up my hand-easily, like he didn't even have to think about it-and placed it against his cheek. "Do you feel how warm you've made me?"
And it was almost warm, his usually icy skin. But I barely noticed, because I was touching his face, something I'd been dreaming and fantasizing about constantly since the first day I'd seen him.
"Don't move," I whispered.
No one could be still like a vampire. He closed his eyes and turned into a statue.
I moved even more slowly than he had, careful not to make one unexpected move. I stroked his cheek, let my fingertips graze across his lavender eyelids, the shadows in the hollows under his eyes. I traced the shape of his straight nose, and then, so carefully, his perfect lips. His lips parted and I could feel his cool breath on my fingertips. I wanted to lean in, to inhale his scent, but I knew that might be too much. If he could control himself, so could I-if only on a much smaller scale.
I tried to move in slow motion so that he could guess everything I would do before I did it. I let my palms slide down the sides of his slender neck, let them rest on his shoulders while my thumbs followed the impossibly fragile curve of his collarbones.
He was much stronger than I was, in so many ways. I seemed to lose control of my hands as they skimmed over the points of his shoulders and down across his sharp shoulder blades. I couldn't stop myself as my arms wrapped around him, pulling him against my chest again. My hands crossed behind him and wrapped around either side of his waist.
He leaned into me, but that was the only movement. He wasn't breathing.
So that gave me a time limit.
I bent down to press my face into his hair for one long second, inhaling a deep lungful of his scent. Then I forced myself to peel my hands off him and move away. One of my hands wouldn't obey completely; it trailed down his arm and settled on his wrist.
"Sorry," I muttered.
He opened his eyes, and they were hungry. Not in a way to make me afraid, but in a way that made the muscles in the pit of my stomach tighten into knots and sent my pulse hammering through my veins again.
"I wish...," he whispered, "I wish that you could feel the... complexity... the confusion... I feel. That you could understand."
He raised his hand to my face, then ran hus fingers quickly through my hair.
"Tell me," I breathed.
"I don't know if I can. You know, on the one hand, the hunger-the thirst-that, being what I am, I feel for you. And I think you can understand that, to an extent. Though"-and he half-smiled-"as you are not addicted to any illegal substances, you probably can't empathize completely.
"But..." His fingers touched my lips lightly, and my heart raced. "There are other things I want, other hungers. Hungers I don't even understand myself."
"I might understand that better than you think."
"I'm not used to feeling so human. Is it always like this?"
"For me?" I paused. "No, never. Never before this."
He put his hands on both sides of my face. "I don't know how to be close to you. I don't know if I can."
I put my hand over his, then leaned forward slowly till my forehead was touching his.
"This is enough," I sighed, closing my eyes.
We sat like that for a moment, and then his fingers moved into my hair. He angled his face up and pressed his lips to my forehead. The rhythm of my pulse exploded into a jagged sprint.
"You're a lot better at this than you give yourself credit for," I said when I could speak again.
He leaned away, taking my hands again. "I was born with human instincts-they may be buried deep, but they exist."
We stared at each other for another immeasurable moment; I wondered if he was as unwilling to move as I was. But the light was fading, the shadows of the trees almost touching us.
"You have to go."
"I thought you couldn't read my mind."
He smiled. "It's getting clearer."
A sudden excitement flared in his eyes. "Can I show you something?"
"Anything."
He grinned. "How about a faster way back to the truck?"
I looked at him warily.
"Don't you want to see how I travel in the forest?" he pressed. "I promise it's safe."
"Will you... turn into a bat?"
He burst into laughter. "Like I haven't heard that one before!"
"Right, I'm sure you get that all the time."
He was on his feet in another invisibly fast motion. He offered me his hand, and I jumped up next to him. He whirled around and looked back at me over his shoulder.
"Climb on my back."
I blinked. "Huh?"
"Don't be a coward, Remus, I promise this won't hurt."
He stood there waiting with his back toward me, totally serious.
"Sirius, I don't... I mean, how?"
He spun back to me, one eyebrow raised. "Surely you're familiar with the concept of a piggyback ride?"
I shrugged. "Sure, but..."
"What's the problem, then?"
"Well... you're...smaller than me."
He blew out an exasperated breath, then vanished. This time I felt the wind from his passage. A second later, he was back with a boulder in one hand.
An actual boulder. One that he must have ripped out of the ground, because the bottom half was covered in clinging dirt and spidery roots. It would be as high as his waist if he set it down. He tilted his head to one side.
"That's not what I meant. I'm not saying you're not strong enough-"
He flipped the boulder lightly over his shoulder, and it sailed well past the edge of the forest and then crashed down to earth with the sound of shattering wood and stone.
"Obviously," I went on. "But I... How would I fit?" I looked at my too long legs and then back to him.
He turned his back to me again. "Trust me."
Feeling like the stupidest, most awkward person in all of history, I hesitantly put my arms around his neck.
"Come on," he said impatiently. He reached back with one hand and grabbed my leg, yanking my knee up past his hip.
"Whoa!"
But he already had my other leg, and instead of toppling backward, he easily supported my weight. He moved my legs into position around his waist. My face was burning, and I knew I must look like a gorilla on a greyhound.
"Am I hurting you?"
"Please, Remus."
Embarrassed as I was, I was also very aware that my arms and legs were wrapped tightly around his slender body.
Suddenly he grabbed my hand and pressed my palm to his face. He inhaled deeply.
"Easier all the time," he said.
And then he was running.
For the first time, I felt actual fear for my life. Terror.
He streaked through the forest like a bullet, like a ghost. There was no sound, no evidence that his feet ever touched the ground. His breathing never changed, never indicated any effort. But the trees flew by at deadly speeds, always missing us by inches.
I was too shocked to close my eyes, though the cool air whipped against my face and burned them. It felt like I was sticking my head out the window of an airplane in flight.
Then it was over. We'd hiked hours this morning to reach Sirius' meadow, and now, in a matter of minutes-not even minutes, seconds-we were back to the truck.
"Exhilarating, isn't it?" His voice was high, excited.
He stood motionless, waiting for me to unwind my legs and step away from him. I did try, but I couldn't get my muscles to unfreeze. My arms and legs stayed locked while my head spun uncomfortably.
"Remus?" he asked, anxious now.
"I might need to lie down," I gasped.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
It took me a few seconds to remember how to loosen my fingers. Then everything seemed to come undone at the same time, and I half-fell off him, stumbling backward until I lost my footing and finished the other half of the fall.
He held out his hand, trying not to laugh, but I refused his offer. Instead, I stayed down and put my head between my knees. My ears were ringing and my head whirled in queasy circles.
A cold hand rested lightly against the back of my neck. It helped.
"I guess that wasn't the best idea," he mused.
I tried to be positive, but my voice was hollow. "No, it was very interesting."
"Hah! You're as white as a ghost-no, worse, you're as white as me!"
"I think I should have closed my eyes."
"Remember that next time." I looked up, startled. "Next time?"
He laughed, his mood still flying.
"Show-off," I muttered, and put my head down again.
After a half-minute, the swirling motion slowed.
"Look at me, Remus."
I lifted my head, and he was right there, his face just inches from mine. His beauty was like a sucker punch that left me stunned. I couldn't get used to it.
"I was thinking, while I was running-"
"About not hitting trees, I hope," I interrupted breathlessly.
"Silly Remus. Running is second nature to me. It's not something I have to think about."
"Show-off," I muttered again.
He smiled. "No, I was thinking there was something I wanted to try." He put his hands on my face again.
I couldn't breathe.
He hesitated. It felt like a test, making sure this was safe, that he was still in control of himself.
And then his cold, perfect lips pressed very softly against mine.
Neither of us was ready for my reaction.
Blood boiled under my skin, burned in my lips. My breath came in a wild gasp. My fingers tangled in his hair, locking his face to mine. My lips opened as I breathed in his heady scent.
Immediately, he turned to unresponsive stone beneath my lips. His hands gently, but forcibly, pushed my face back. I opened my eyes and saw his expression.
"Whoops," I said.
"That's an understatement."
His eyes were wild, his jaw clenched in restraint. My face was still just inches from his, my fingers twisted through his hair.
"Should I...?" I tried to disengage myself, to give him some room.
His hands didn't release me.
"No, it's tolerable. Wait for a moment, please." His voice was polite, controlled.
I kept my eyes on his, watching as the excitement in them faded and gentled.
He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. "There."
"Tolerable?" I asked.
He laughed. "I'm stronger than I thought. It's nice to know."
"And I'm not. Sorry."
"You are only human, after all."
I sighed. "Yeah."
He freed his hair from my fingers, and then he was on his feet in one of his lithe, nearly invisible movements. He held his hand out again, and this time I took it and pulled myself up. I needed the support; my balance hadn't returned yet. I wobbled slightly as I took a step away from him.
"Are you still reeling from the run, or was it my kissing expertise?" He seemed very human as he laughed now, careless and lighthearted. He was a new Sirius, different than the one I'd known, and I was even more besotted by him. It would cause me physical pain to be separated from him now.
"Both."
"Maybe you should let me drive."
"Uh, I think I've had enough of your need for speed for today...."
"I can drive better than you on your best day," he said. "You have much slower reflexes."
"I believe you, but I don't think my truck could handle your driving."
"Some trust, please, Remus."
My hand curled around the key in my pocket. I pursed my lips, like I was deliberating, then shook my head with a tight grin.
"Nope. Not a chance."
He raised his eyebrows, grabbed a fistful of my t-shirt, and yanked. I nearly stumbled into him, catching myself with one hand against his shoulder.
"Remus, I've already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive. I'm not about to let you get behind the wheel of a vehicle when you can't even walk straight. Friends don't let friends drive drunk."
"Drunk?" I objected.
He leaned up on his tiptoes so that his face was closer to mine. I could smell the unbearably sweet fragrance of his breath. "You're intoxicated by my very presence."
"I can't argue with that." I sighed. There was no way around it-I couldn't resist him in anything. I held the key high and dropped it, watching his hand flash like lightning to catch it without a sound. "Take it easy. My truck is a senior citizen."
"Very sensible."
He dropped my shirt and ducked out from under my hand.
"So you're not affected at all? By my presence?"
He turned back and reached for my hand, holding it to his face again. He leaned into my palm, his eyes sliding closed. He took a slow, deep breath.
"Regardless...," he murmured. His eyes flashed open and he grinned.
"I have better reflexes."