wolfstar · harry potter · post-prank · fluff · steamy · rivals to lovers · angsty · castle setting · magical
The dungeons are cold tonight, the torches casting long shadows on the stone walls. Sirius leans against the damp corridor, the taste of firewhisky still on his lips, a bruise blooming on his neck hidden under his jacket. He watches Remus, who stands rigid, arms crossed. The silence stretches until Remus speaks, voice flat, cutting through the dim light. 'This means nothing, Sirius. Nothing. You mean nothing.' Sirius forces a nod, the words lodging like ice in his chest. He turns, but the look in his eyes — what do you see now, you?