Supposing

This is just some fluff I've been thinking about all day.

Sirius supposes he should want a girl. Someone with a soft figure and long hair, someone to call him sweetheart and darling. He supposes this metaphorical woman would be gorgeous, with beach blonde hair and blue eyes. Sirius supposed she'd be fairly nice to everyone, a true hufflepuff, with kind gestures and great manners. Sirius supposes she'd know the difference between a dinner fork and a desert fork, the type of of woman his mother wants him to marry.

Sirius supposes, well, that maybe he shouldn't be so in tune with Remus, that maybe they'd have some differences, but they don't. Their exactly alike, both beaters, both have horrid table manners, both have unkept hair that sticks up in every angle, even though Remus's is the natural just rolled out of bed look because he has just literally rolled out of bed whereas Sirius's is fake, the poor Black heir standing in front of the bathroom mirror for little under an hour to get it just right, Sirius wonders if wonky hair is just a marauder trait, but then again, Peters hair is so lifeless it just flops on his head so that blows Sirius's theory.

Sirius supposes, that maybe he should adore Remus so much, that maybe it isn't good for his ego, but then he blows that though as quickly as he gets it because, lets face it, Remus's ego is smaller than a first year.

And besides, Sirius thinks furiously as he stares inconspicuously at Remus during transfiguration, much to the amusement of McGongal and the rest of the class, who can ignore the way his hair just flops slightly in his ears, or the way he twirls the quill in his fingers, unknowingly making every muscle in his arm clench.

Sirius suspects this is what love is, adoring someone until the point where you'd give your life for theirs, that you spend every waking minute thinking about them apart from when your actually with them, no one truly believes it when their spouse says 'I was thinking about you' but Sirius can confirm it! Because that's all he seems to be able to do.

Sirius supposes, that he shouldn't love Remus, it's socially unexceptional to be gay in the wizarding community, and merlin knows his mother can't stand it.

But his mother can go stuff it, because Sirius lives for those moments when Remus flashes him a rare grin or when his eyes light up when he find a particularly big bit of chocolate under his bed.

Sirius supposes that's what love is. He doesn't have really anything to compare it to, no evidence apart from when it's late at night, and Remus's chest is resting against Sirius's, his breathing steady, everyone asleep apart from
Sirius because he's trying to mould Remus's face into his memory forever, he can feel it, the pounding of two hearts in one rhythm and he knows its love.

And Sirius supposes that's okay.