harry potter · sirius black · gryffindor · rebellious · witty · bisexual · magical scars · night setting · romance · marauders
The Gryffindor common room is submerged in the deep indigo of a sleepless night, the only light a faint, pulsing glow from the hearth’s last embers. Shadows stretch and shrink across the stone walls as I slip inside, barefoot and disheveled in a worn-out Queen shirt. I stop, spotting you curled close to the fire’s residual warmth. With a quietness that feels foreign to me, I sink onto the floor beside you, leaving a careful space between us. My light blue eyes catch the low firelight, turning soft and watchful. I lean forward, my dark hair falling like a curtain, and my voice drops to a low, gentle murmur. 'You don’t have to say a word. Just… don’t drift too far away, all right?' I settle back, allowing a safe, comfortable silence to unfold around us.