my stories

He wants to believe her, kisses her to stop her words so he don't have to wonder if they're lies.

Just before he defeats Voldemort, Harry brings Sirius back, Orpheus successful at last, but there is almost nothing left of the Sirius Remus remembers.

River has her own small, secret hope -- that they will help her find her own voice.

There's a difference between what a man wants and what he knows is right.

Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly. ~ MFK Fisher

It would be better if she hated him.

Serenity never let him down, not when he kept her up, cared for her like his own flesh and blood.

River is good at this, too, tracing curves with fingers and tongue, seeking out dark, secret places and making them sing.

Remus learns why showing is better than telling.

Remus wakes up and stumbles into a murder investigation.

For Remus, it will always be too late.

Hephaistion wanted to keep the evidence of Alexander's promise with him always.

Sirius is tired of this shite.

He knows he will never have Sirius, has made peace with it, and if he hasn't actually moved on, he's at least given up waiting for Sirius to come around and started to have a little fun on his own.

They are walking back to the cottage after a furtive late night visit into town for groceries, when Sirius lies down in the middle of the road.

Hephaistion knew himself blessed beyond measure.

He shoves Remus into the alcove formed by the speaker, hands already working at his belt, and Remus leans in and kisses him, hard and hungry.

Better to light a candle than curse the darkness.

Draco needs to know.

"Generally speaking, it's a good idea to duck when someone takes a swing at you."

"I have about half an hour before I have to be in Moscow." "Then shut up and kiss me."

For once, he was going to trust Sirius, and let himself fall.

She has never imagined a charming prince for herself, and she hasn't got one. Instead, she has two brothers in her bed.

They are brothers, after all.

Sirius is still too thin, with too-long hair and a grin that cuts like a razor.

In which Oliver and Charlie drink firewhisky and old secrets are revealed.

"This thing between us," they still have no name for it; it is too big and too strong and too delicate for naming, "will never be over."

She freezes, not sure of what she’s seeing, as Sirius’s hand wraps around Remus’s ankle, brown fingers against brown skin barely visible in the brown grass, but Lily’s eyes are sharp.

Sirius is a wanted man, a fugitive from the law. He’s not looking to rekindle an old romance with a shabby werewolf.

Now he just prays for it to rain the day he goes to Diagon Alley to pick up his supplies for the term.