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Format: One-shot
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 1,448
Status: COMPLETED
Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme
Genres: Romance, Angst, Young Adult
Characters: Lupin, Sirius, James, Bellatrix, OC, OtherCanon
Pairings: Sirius/OC, Sirius/Lily, Other Pairing
First Published: 07/30/2008
Last Chapter: 03/21/2010
Last Updated: 03/21/2010
Summary:All credit goes to the wonderful hysteria@tda
I'm just the glimmer in his eyes, the secret never told, the girl who knew him better than anyone and yet he lost me, I lost him. He failed and I succeeded. And so he walked away. And I'm still here. Waiting.
His Mother’s Eyes
Disclaimer: I own nothing:]
A/N: Sorry for any spelling mistakes etc. my computer is a bit weird and doesn't correct mistakes in Word for some reason... REMEMBER TO LEAVE A REVIEW!!! ^_^ I love them and they help me improve!
The Glimmer in His Mother's Eyes
He was the moody type. He liked being undefined, not quite sure where to place him and he was wonderful, mysterious. He was a lot of things, and most of them I didn’t know.
His father, he claimed he hated, I never knew about that; he cried at the funeral. Maybe it had just been playing for the gallery, but somehow I could not believe that. He wasn’t honest and I was sure he had lied to me many times in the years we’d known one another. But I just couldn’t fathom that a boy like him, a lost boy like him, could be so deceivable. And still, he might have loved his father, I’m not saying he didn’t, but he did; he said he hated his father. I believed him and hated him for making me believe him.
He was alright and he loved me - so he claimed as well, maybe I should believe him, it would change a lot of things if I did, all of it wouldn’t be so damn awkward and dangerous.
His eyes were his mother’s - as he feared. I know, that if he was given the chance, he would get a new pair of eyes, anything to rid him of the connection to his mother. He walked like her, though, and breathed, and talked like her. He hated me for saying this, but it remained the truth nonetheless. He would laugh his bark like laughter and he would smirk along with it, thrown casually into the pool of emotions he liked to fool around with.
The grey swirls would swirl even faster and his cognac-breath would dizzy me and make me giggle into his puppy eyes, he wouldn’t shave and there would be traceable stubbles strewn all across his jaw and I would sit in his lap, trying to count them, giggling to myself.
His warm hands were rough upon my skin, and I would kiss him, and they would glide along my thighs, lustfully. I would love his caresses and he would love to teach me more and more, the teaching became a tradition and the traditions became something less than a memory.
I didn’t mind the lies, I loved the truths, but he avoided truths; so our world was lies, and we didn’t know who we were, but we had each other and he liked that; just being there with us. Me in his lap, a whisky or just some booze, James on his right, Lupin on his left and Pete somewhere behind us. Life was simple to him and he didn’t try and complicate it. There were good and bad, love and hate, him and I, James and Bellatrix, his mum and his dad.
We would spend our days, loving, laughing boozing around in open bliss to life. He would snag and snore at night under open sky and I would try and count the stars, to see if I could at least figure out the way they would move. In the end, when I closed my eyes I would dream of stars. So stars were nice.
He would absently stroke the skin on my arm and pull me into his warmth and I would try and breathe normally - as I was supposed to, and try not to think of his mother. He liked my smell, he said, and he would snuggle into me, running warm fingers along my spine, trailing along it and tingling along.
His black hair was like his fathers, and I would focus on that; the innocent hair that fell into the betraying eyes he possessed. He was born a betrayer, and he could do nothing about it, he knew and I knew and we knew in joined knowing and what did it matter, to him it appeared it didn’t - but I knew better.
His eyes betrayed himself also. Always the betraying eyes. His mother’s eyes. I would love the eyes and then remember the deceit and lies hidden behind soft long lashes and grey subtle pleading eyes. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but who cared whose fault it was? He still had her eyes.
He never mentioned tomorrow, or even the next year. He was undefined as he wished for it to be, and so people let him alone, and he loved it, he was granted with the one thing he wanted. To be separated by others.
They didn’t get him and he loved it, loved scaring them, loved scaring me.
He was arrogant, proud and ignorant - ignorant enough to once have believed he could change the world. The world didn’t change - instead the world changed him. He was bitter, dark and looming, the grey, miserable person amongst the crowd, and yet he was the highlight of the day, of my day, and he would never cry, never not smile. But his eyes would cry, sob to me, beg for me to come and save him. What he didn’t realize, was that I was never meant to save him; he was meant to save me. He failed.
He was born for greatness, you could see it in his posture, there was something broken inside of him, even though he tried to hide, it was evident. He had lost some big part of him, he lost it the moment he left home - perhaps even sooner, as he entered Hogwarts, as the Hat placed him, showed his colours, red and gold. As he realised there was another truth than the one his parents saw.
He loved his mother, loved her more than his dad, treasured her, watched her always with the observant eye. The warmth in his eyes shone bright and startling, even as she sneered at him, and as he sneered back.
He never loved me.
I found the days getting darker, his presence wavering, he smelled of women’s perfume, and desperately, I tried not to notice, to ignore it.
And the shades turned to the right colours and everything became clearer; I was a Slytherin, I was the essence of his past, his present and future, the package he always brought. I hadn’t changed. But I loved him, I loved him as he would never love me.
He had wanted me to change, he had wanted me to be the glimmer in his eyes. I guess that was what I became; the glimmer in his mother’s eyes, the part of him no one else ever noticed. We didn’t last, as I knew we wouldn’t. It never fizzled out or died somehow, he left, and that, was the end.
In that way he could pretend that I never got to him, pretend that he was mystified, no one got him. Except me. But, I was the glimmer in his eyes, the past that lay behind the lashes, the ever-changing ever-growing love that I never let go.
I saved him. He was meant to save me, but he failed, he wanted to save me, to succeed in ridding me of all that was wrong, but instead I showed him the other side of himself, I was the mirror that told the truth and told him what he was and what he wasn’t. He hated me, and treasured, not me, but the fact that he was finally being honest.
He was the one to walk away, I was left behind. He won and I lost. He was able to walk away, the truth of him ate me; I knew him unlike any other - and he wasn’t special, he was just my own little case, others never realised that he could be a case - but then again no one ever looks beyond the surface.
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And now? Now, I’m sitting on the porch, drinking his cup of booze, the sugar in his cup is sweet and the liquid is warm, the wind is cold. Summer has turned to winter and he has been shipped away. October is dying out; the sun is fading into the night sky, warming my skin, and right now as the last day of October ebbs away, the sky lights up, showing all of its colours; red, white, blue, black in all its brilliance, it shines brightly, shines startling, before turning dark, turning Black.
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