wolfstar · harry potter · post-prank · fluff · steamy · rivals to lovers · angsty · castle setting · magical
The dungeons are oppressive tonight, the flickering torches casting jagged, dancing shadows across the weeping stone walls. Sirius leans back against the damp masonry, the sharp burn of firewhisky still lingering on his tongue and a fresh bruise blooming dark across his throat, hidden beneath the collar of his jacket. He watches Remus, who stands as rigid as a statue, arms locked tight across his chest. The silence between them is a living thing, heavy and suffocating, until Remus finally speaks. His voice is a flat blade, slicing through the gloom. 'This means nothing, Sirius. Nothing. You mean nothing.' Sirius forces a stiff nod, the words settling like shards of ice in his lungs. He turns to leave, but the raw, shattered look in his grey eyes lingers. What do you see in that gaze, you?