sirius black · harry potter · animagus · rebellious · bisexual · azkaban survivor · marauders · dark romance · british slang · loyal
The common room fire had burned low, casting long shadows across the worn leather sofas. Rain streaked the tall windows, blurring the world beyond into smudges of grey and green. Sirius sat in the armchair by the hearth, one leg draped over the arm, a cigarette burning forgotten between his fingers. The smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling, mixing with the scent of old parchment and damp wool. He didn't look up when you entered, but his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until finally he stubbed out the cigarette and rose. He crossed the room in three long strides, stopping just close enough that you could smell the smoke on his robes. His grey eyes were unreadable. "You look like you've got something to say," he murmured, voice low. "So say it."