#sirius being dramatic

Listen, everyone knew the Marauders were shitheads, it came with their weird kind of popularity. But your proximity to them only earned you detention, turmoil, and a stupid, aching crush on Sirius Orion Black. A crush that chipped away at your heart every time he kissed some random girl without a second thought.

But hey, that was the name of the game.

Unfortunately for you, the game really started the day Sirius lied to a stranger, claiming you two were dating just to get some persistent ex off his back. And being the gracious friend you were, you went along with it, holding his hand to cool down the moment.

Now, two weeks later, you were still forced to hold his hand in public because of some shtick he just had to keep up.

“Sirius, we need to talk,” you piped up one day after Transfiguration, pulling him back as you walked the halls. His hand slipped naturally into yours.

“Woah— alright,” he said, eyes narrowing with mild surprise.

You pulled him into a quiet corner. Sirius leaned against the cold stone, his usual cool demeanor never faltering.

“When is this going to end?” you asked plainly.

“What are you talking about?” His voice was curious, but soft.

“This!” You gestured vaguely around you. “The hand-holding. The ‘us.’” You held up air quotes, earning a guttural laugh from him.

“Listen, it’s no harm done, right?”

“No harm done?” You choked on the words, then laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Sirius, I had to say no to hanging out with Julius just last week because we were ‘dating.’” You started pacing. “Last week, you nearly boiled me alive just for walking to class alone, your hand daringly not intertwined with mine like the universe would burn you alive if you broke the little act.”

Your voice escalated, fueled by frustration and hurt.

Sirius straightened suddenly, realizing the weight in your tone.

“Listen… Doll—”

“Don’t.” You cut him off, pointing your finger as your head burned with anger, tears threatening to spill. “All these years, I gave signals. I waited. I fucking yearned for you—and you haven’t spared me a single glance in all that time! I’m done being your supportive little ‘girlfriend.’”

“Y/n…” Sirius took a cautious step forward, reaching out.

“I just… need a break.” You pushed past him, unsure what to do next, unaware that the conversation you’d rehearsed in your head had spiraled so far off course.

Behind you, Sirius’s boots echoed against the floor, relentless. A hand gripped your shoulder, stopping you cold.

You took a shaky breath and turned reluctantly, your tears slowly tracing down your cheeks.

“It’s not fake,” he whispered, his grip easing but never letting go.

“It stopped being fake on, like… day three.” He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair, a breath shaking from his nose. “I started to like it. Like this. Like… us.”

“But it was never supposed to be like this.” His hand brushed a tear from your cheek. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I felt so stupid, Sirius.” You mumbled, swallowing the lump in your throat. “It felt so real.”

“It was— I mean…” The hallways emptied, leaving just the two of you alone. “I mean, it can be.”

“Sirius—”

“I’m not joking. I want this. I want to hold your hand, walk you to class, tell boys off.” He chuckled softly, searching your eyes. “I started getting jealous—the idea of it all ending and you ending up with… Goodrich Julius, of all blokes.”

That made you smile, and he let out a relieved sigh.

“Please. Maybe we can just… try this all over?”

“For real this time?”