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futurewriter2000 · 6 years

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He left ~ Pt. 5

A/N: Ah, well, finally I continued with the part five. Sorry for making me take this long but yes. I hope you enjoy it or like it or I don’t know.

PAIRING: Sirius Black x reader

TAGS: @siriusly-loves-snuffles, @slither-in-a-half, @nadinissavage, @shadyladyperfection, @geeksareunique, @ashkuuuu, @xinyourdreamsx, @maralisa124, @loserslytherpuff, @chloe-geoghegan1, @musekala, @moonysmilkshake, @crispyfrenchfrieschrusis, @unicorn-sparkles123, @queenofravenclaw05, @redhead-weasley, @fashionlive15, @quokkatrash, @bennie-badeend, @sly-vixen-up2nogood, @rosegoldquintis , @evyiione

It stung. The point from your earing let you wince a little as you finally put it on, finishing your appearance and looking in the mirror.

“ Who is that?” you heard yourself mumble as you continued to look in the mirror.

You haven’t been this dressed up since... well, since Sirius but looking at the woman in tight black dress and pinned up hairstyle definitely wasn’t you.

“ You look amazing.” a soft voice came from the doorway and making you smile gently as you turned to meet his grey eyes.

“ Thank you, Dani.” you walked over to him, fixing up his curly hair and squeeze his chin. “ Follow me.” you said as you walked through the door and down into the living room where you found other two children watching television.

“ Blimey, mom. You look absolutely ravishing.” your other son teased by letting out a howl.

“ Stop, Leo.” you spoke in a cold tone as you grabbed the TV remote and turned off the television. “ So...” you clasped your hands together as they all goggled you with their adorable charming eyes. “ I am going out in about five minutes. Now, I know I usually call aunt Cece but today I decided to call Sirius.”

“ What?!”

“ Dani, be quiet.” you shot him a glare before continuing.

“ But we’re old enough-”

“ I said be quiet, Dani!”

“ Just because of that stupid-”

“ Eridani, do not tempt me!” you shouted loud and he immediately became quiet. You barely called him by his full name. It seemed strange for you to call him Eridani instead of just Dani. You sighed and sat down on the closest chair in your reach. “ Dani... believe it or not he is your father.” you looked at him softly. “ He loves all of you and I promised him to give him a chance. I want you to do the same.”

Both Leo and Lyra exchanged looks and shrugged while Dani kept his expression stern. “ He left.” he stood up and kept glaring at you. “ He left and he will never be forgiven for what he put us through.” and he was gone, leaving you sitting on that chair and gaze where he disappeared.

You buried your head into your palms and removed them quickly before it stayed in your hands for too long. A hand touched yours and you were faced with another grey eyes. God, you wished they didn’t look like him that much. “ Don’t worry about him, mum. Just go have fun.” Leo smiled and you put your hand on his cheek, feeling slightly better.

“ Thank you.” you kissed him on the head and stood up, ready to leave when someone apparated right in front of you and catching you before falling backward.

“ Whoops.” he chuckled and kept holding you by the waist.

“ Sirius, use the bloody door.” you moved away from his grip and took a few steps back.

His eyes traveled from head to toe and he felt himself drooling a little inside. The way that black dress made your curves right, your (y/e/c) eliminating the light in the room as your pinned up hairstyle started to get a little messy. “ Wow.” he grinned and you felt your cheeks grow hot. “ Looking stunning, love.”

“ She’s always stunning.” said the voice from the stairs, his owner getting on his feet and walking towards you. He looked at you with guilty eyes and spoke again. “ I’m sorry for acting like a git. I’ll behave, I promise.” his mouth curved into a smirk and his left eyebrow twitched, making you completely aware the way, indeed, lying.

“ Thank you.” you kissed his head just as you did with his brother, walking pass Sirius and starting to put your heels on. “ I’ll be home around eleven. Don’t wait up, okay. “ you put one heel on and took the other, pointing it at Sirius. “ I better come home to three children and unburned house. “

Sirius let out a laugh. “ No promises, love.” he winked again, showing off his perfect bright smile that not even Azkaban could take away.

“ Mum.” called out Dani. “ Don’t forget to tell Nick to come to my game on Saturday, alright?” he grinned mischievously, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“ I won’t.” you smiled and made your way towards the door.

“ Nick, huh?” he ran after you, his grey eyes suddenly changing colors to pale blue. “ I-Is he coming with you?” he avoided your gaze and crossed his eyes over his chest.

“ Yes, he is.” you spoke firmly, letting go of the door handle. “ Do you have a problem with that?”

“ I mean we are still married...” he started but you cut him off before he could continue.

“ You left, Sirius. I was not about to wait for you forever. “ you wanted to speak but was cut off by him instead.

“ Alright. I don’t have a problem with that.” he kept his eyes on the ground.

“ With what?” you asked, wanting him to look at you in the eyes.

He looked up, jealousy behind his eyes but his mouth curved into a false smile. “ I don’t have a problem you going out with Nick.” and it twitched. His left eyebrow twitched.

#Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #James Potter #james potter imagine #golden trio era #Marauders #the marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders imagines

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feuillesmortes · 7 years

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Fic update! Sorry to keep anyone waiting. This is the last chapter before our season finale as I’m finishing (part 1 of) this fic next chapter. It’s been an incredible journey, so thanks everyone for sticking with me. Tagging my mates @queenbessofyork and @harritudur, who I love dearly <3

You can also read it on Ao3.

April was the cruelest month, but she had never felt it so keenly before. Her bedroom bathed in sultry light, the curtains filtering the sunbeams, Lizzie opened the windowpanes to look at the passers-by walking on the street. The sun was up again, and another day prepared for work and silence.

Not the type of silence found in quiet strolls taken beneath the scrawny branches of winter trees. No, but the tedious, everlasting silence hanging heavily between textbooks and libraries while life outside grew greener each day. The urge to go out on town had never felt so tempting now that she was bound to a desk in hopes of memorising every tiny detail she had been taught across two semesters. The education system was hardly fair on the students.

She leaned out the window, her morning apple in hand. Down below people came and went like busy bees. Were these streets always so filled with children? Were they ever so crowded? Lizzie mulled unhappily. It must have been the time of the year. A few feet apart, on her bed, her mobile buzzed with yet another text from Katie and Joan.

Just arrived in Regent's Park Are you coming? We brought a picnic basket xx

Lizzie resigned herself to a heavy sigh and a sorrowful reply.

Sorry, I can't. I've got two chapters to finish today. But have fun you two xx

As much as life outside called to her, Lizzie felt undeserving of a picnic. Her fingers hovered above the mobile screen, frozen in air. Her contacts list showed the name of a Henry T, the picture one she herself had cropped out from a group photo. The mention of Regent's Park had reminded her of one particular afternoon, autumn leaves, late roses and... him. The last message he had sent to her dated from the 2nd of April.

Spoons will be perfect. 7 it is then. x

Lizzie had not heard from him since. All that was left was a long, uncomfortable, unyielding silence. Rodrigo too had noticed his absence.

"Is Tudor always so busy now? He never drops by anymore." That was his simple remark on the subject, and yet kindly, as if sensing there was something wrong, his only one. Her "How could I know?" was met with a sad and sympathetic look, like the ones bestowed on patients going through a difficult surgery. Rodrigo, him too, had not talk about it since.

As much as she tried to hide it, the truth was that she missed Henry. She missed watching his smug, mischievous smirk unfold. She missed hearing his voice, his quips, that sarcasm that often said everything she thought but was too polite to admit. She missed looking at him, at those eyes that absorbed it all — that hunger that shone through to enquire of all things, to take possession of all things. She missed the thrill of being under that gaze, disarmed in the face of a danger she longed to know, a burning desire to just melt into his arms.

And yet, she would not text Henry. She had thought of hundreds of things she could say to him. She had typed and erased, typed and erased. But what should she say after all? There had been nothing going on between them before. She wasn't even sure she should say something in the first place. Her eyes lingered on the necklace he gave her, that expensive gift laying on her nightstand. She should at least return it.

A wild frenzy took over her then. Hands trembling, Lizzie brought her phone to her right ear and waited.

"Hello?”

“Hi! Is this Maud?” Lizzie tried her brightest, chirpiest tone.

“Yes, it’s her.” The voice coming from the other side of the line, though, didn't sound so bright. “Sorry, but who’s this?”

“Oh, sorry! Sorry, I forgot! It's— It’s Lizzie. Henry’s… friend.” There really wasn’t a right word to describe her status. “Do you remember me? You gave me your number last year. You said I could ring you... if anything should...”

“Oh, Lizzie! Of course I remember you, luv! You alright?”

That was it, her last resort: ringing the girl she had once thought was Henry’s girlfriend. There should be at least some sort of reward for the most desperate of measures.

“Yeah. Hmm, listen… Have you talked to Henry lately?”

“I think we texted a week ago or so. Why? Did something happened?”

Maud sounded oblivious enough, so Henry mustn't have told her. Why not fake it then?

“No, no. Everything’s fine.” She chuckled, forcing again her easy voice. Lizzie didn’t know why she was fake smiling when Maud couldn't see her. “It’s just that, well, I haven’t been able to talk to Henry since... last week, I reckon.”

A lie. It had been more than a fortnight since she had last seen him. “I don’t know what happened. Maybe he’s changed his number?”

“I don’t think so, no. Have you tried his flat?”

Relief flooded over Lizzie. Henry had not moved out yet, her biggest fear. “Yeah, I— I have. But I couldn’t find him there. At least the times I tried.”

Another lie. Lizzie hadn’t had the courage to simply… go to his flat and knock on his door. She had passed in front of his building a couple of times, had longingly stared at his window, but hadn’t done much further. How could she think of meeting him face to face when she couldn't even come up with a text? If she was to meet him, it had to look like it happened by chance.

“Oh, have you checked the campus library? I wouldn’t be surprised to find him there. Harry said your exams are coming up. Yikes.”

“Just so.” Lizzie chuckled, nervously. For the last couple of weeks she had been constantly telling herself she should have started revising ages ago. She had thought that worrying about her exams would be enough to get Henry out of her mind. She had been wrong. “Yes, I’ve checked the library but no. I couldn’t find him.”

In fact, Lizzie had checked every place on campus she had ever seen him at. The library, the café, the students' union hub. She had even gone to a meeting of the Tolkien Society. Not only she had not found Henry there, she had to explain she actually had never seen the last Lord of the Rings film. Embarrassing to say the least.

“Maud, did Henry… Did Henry tell you if he’s doing anything this weekend?”

“Oh, you know what? He actually did!”

“DID HE?!” Lizzie almost dropped her phone.

“Yeah, he said he was going to this party— Promoland, melodrama, something like that.”

Her heart sunk with that strange information. Henry going to a party? Unless… “Oh, I think I know the one. Propaganda. It’s a indie rock scene.”

“Sounds about right."

Lizzie remembered one time she shared earphones with Henry. "Did he… Did he say if he was going there by himself? Or if he’s going with friends?”

“No, luv. I’d be surprised if he told me that much. You know how Harry is.”

Unfortunately, she did. It was hard enough to find a person who didn’t want to be found, but finding someone who didn’t use social media was especially difficult. Henry did have a facebook profile — a meager thing with his basic information and a simple enough profile picture that Lizzie had kept looking at for the past few weeks — but he had not updated it in months. Some employers like to check your profile, he had once said, and that was the only reason he had an account in the first place.

“What if he’s a psychopath?” Her sister Cecily had asked her. She was the only person Lizzie had opened up about Henry. They were sitting cross-legged on the floor, Lizzie on her laptop. It looked like stalking really wasn't her forte.

“I mean, why isn't him on twitter or instagram? I wonder what he’s hiding.”

“He’s not hiding anything.” Lizzie took it almost personally. “He’s just a private person, is all.”

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t think he's safe.”

“Safe? What— Cece! We lived in the same flat for months! He’s not a psychopath. Henry is just… Henry.”

“Lizzie, are you still there?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry, I was reminiscing. Yeah, I know exactly how he is.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be of much help.”

“Oh no, no! You’ve helped me tremendously! Truly, thank you.”

A pause.

“...You know you can tell me if anything’s wrong, right?”

“There’s nothing wrong.” Lizzie tried her sweet voice again, her most melodious pitch. Easy lies coated with sugar. She had learned it from her father.

“Yeah, but if you need to talk—”

“Maud, I think there’s someone’s calling me. I should really go.”

“Alright, luv. I won’t press it any further.”

“Thank you again, Maud. Just… please don’t tell Henry I called.”

So this was how Lizzie found herself outside the legendary Electric Ballroom on a Saturday night, elbowing the hordes of undergrads desperately trying to forget about their exams with some late night partying. Those famous clubs of Camden Town, the ones that had seen the likes of The Smiths, U2 and many other rock legends, those were always crowded on the weekends. That would certainly pose a challenge to her quest.

“Is your name on the guest list?” The bouncer asked Lizzie, her voice barely audible above the loud beat reverberating off the club’s brick walls. She tried again, spacing her words and raising her pitch. “Miss, is. your. name. on. the. guest. list?"

"Hmm, yes. Yes, it should be there.” Lizzie tried her best blank face. Of course her name was not on the list. “Name's Elizabeth Regina York.” She hoped her nonchalant tone would do the trick for her.

But her arm was held down when she tried to scurry past the door staff. “I would need to check your ID, miss. But I don’t see your name here.”

“It should be there. There’s got to be some mistake. Certainly it’s there.” Lizzie tried again to step around to get to the ticket booth, but the bouncer blocked her way and held out a hand to her.

“I will have to ask you to get back in the queue.”

Lizzie glanced at the number of people queueing up behind her. At the pace it all was going, Lizzie would get to the club at the end of the party. Who knew if Henry would still be there! “Look, is there anything you can do for me? There’s been some mistake surely.”

The security guard was adamant. “Miss, if your name’s not on the list there’s nothing I can do. House’s full.”

“But I really need to get in there! If you could just—”

“I’m sorry, miss. Not my job, not my problem.”

She tried to grasp at something, anything. “See, my boyfriend’s in there! I really need to talk to him.”

“Then he should’ve waited for you outside, shouldn’t he?” Yes, he should have. Only he wasn't her boyfriend at all. She opened her mouth to plead again but was interrupted. “Get back in the queue, miss.”

A wild commotion was heard. “MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY!” People cleared the path as a drunk girl with a fluorescent pink top was carried outside, hanging on the shoulders of two friends. She vomited, splashing a few people on her way out.

“Teens these days...” The security guard shook her head. She turned back to Lizzie, only to found that she had already vanished inside.

The loud beating of the club partially deafened Lizzie. As her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness, the inevitable question came to her: how on earth would she find Henry at such packed and poorly lit rooms? She stood in the corner of the main room, tried to discern the dancing heads from one another. The flickering lights made her uncomfortably dizzy, the heavy boom of the bass shook the floor under her feet.

The DJ on stage made a sign and everyone started cheering. Soon enough the lyrics of Mr. Brightside were heard, people singing along from the top of their lungs. A few Alex Turner’s face masks swam among the crowd.

♫ Jealousy, turning saints into the sea Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis But it’s just the price I pay, destiny is calling me Open up my eager eyes, ‘cause I’m Mr. Brightside ♫

People spinning around, arms raised, bobbing their heads, singing. The blasting music was contagious. Everyone looked like having such a good time. Lizzie had never felt so out of place before. Feeling half-defeated, she decided to go to the bar — eventually Henry would have to stop there, she reckoned. Realising she could not simply stand there indefinitely without being asked her drink, she asked for her traditional pint of Strongbow Dark Fruit.

“We don’t have that here.” Lizzie tried to think of another drink, but the bartender’s impatience made her unable to think fast. “Would you like a Carling instead?” She accepted the beer, if only not to let him waiting any longer. She hated letting people down, from people working service jobs to family and friends.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. “If you come with me outside I can buy you a Strongbow.” The voice barked at her ear. “There’s a Liddl just down the street.” Lizzie turned her head to look at the unknown man with such a “who-the-fuck-are-you” look that he felt compelled to present himself. “Couldn’t help but notice you standing there, princess.” He offered her a crooked smile and extended his hand to her. “Hi. I'm—”

“Goodbye.” Lizzie grabbed her pint and dashed away.

She stopped by the stairs leading to the ladies and gents. That was another place Henry would have to pass by eventually, wasn’t it? The minutes ticked by, her pint glass was emptied. She bought another. Lizzie checked every guy’s face that came her way, some who looked back unkindly. She sat down, no longer caring whether her seat was too dirty to rest her bum. Further inside The 1975 and other bands were playing. She pulled out her mobile — No messages, no texts, no nothing. Muteness. She decided she didn't care anymore.

Where are you?

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

I miss you.

It felt like carving her heart out. How could those simple words make her feel so vulnerable, so naked? Everything was coming into place, and oh, she was most certainly an idiot! If only her foolish pride hadn't rendered her so blind, she might have seen that... that...

Lizzie wiped the single tear that dared to roll down her cheek. She would not let herself be seen like this. She thought of all the girls she had met crying at nightclubs. She would not be like that, and yet, the thought only made her sadder. She hid her face behind her hands and wept silently, one tear at a time. Bitter tears of frustration.

Not so silently as she would like to. A warm hand landed on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” She peered through her fingers to find the blurred vision of a girl smiling at her. Lizzie cleaned her cheeks.

“I’m ok, thank you.” Maybe if she wasn’t feeling like utter rubbish she might have remembered the features of that girl.

“You don't look ok. What happened?”

Lizzie laughed bitterly. “I happened. I've fucked up everything." The words sounded harsh even to her own ears. "I've botch it all up. That’s what happened.”

The girl offered her that same sympathetic smile Rodrigo had given her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be.” Lizzie sniffed and smiled weakly. She felt so unbelievably pathetic. She wanted to be left alone to her misery, but it wouldn't be the polite thing to say. "Sorry, there's something I must do. I've gotta go."

She got up from her place and almost ran to the first floor. That was it, Lizzie had decided: she would find Henry right there and then, even if it was the last thing she did. She circled the dance floor, touched shoulders and arms. "Excuse me. Sorry. Excuse me. Sorry." Not him, not him, not that one either. The flickering lights started making her dizzy again, the loud beat hurt her ears.

♫ Well are you mine? are you mine tomorrow? Are you mine? or just mine tonight? Are you mine? are you mine tomorrow? Or just mine tonight? ♫

"Henry!" Her heart jumped. She saw the back of a head that looked just like him. The same haircut and the same slope of the shoulders. She grabbed his arm and he turned and... It wasn't him. She backed off by small tentative steps. "I'm... sorry!" Her steps soon turned into running. She wanted to flee, to disappear. She needed to get out of there.

________________________________________

"I need to get out of here." Henry almost shouted, trying to get his words across. The music was loud enough to muffle his voice.

"What, really?" Ed shouted back. "The party's just started."

"I know." Henry had tried to battle his growing discomfort to no avail. He just wasn't feeling up for a party.

"Alright, mate. Just let me get Tom."

"There's no need to—"

Ed took two long strides and tapped Tom on the shoulder. Though he couldn't hear him, Henry could see the words coming out of his mouth. Tom snapped back his head as if a teacher had just caught him sleeping in class. "What? Now?!" Ed uttered some words back. "He can go. I'm not leaving."

"Tom, c'mon!" Ed's frustration was loud enough to be heard this time.

"I'm not leaving yet! They're playing absolute bangers tonight! And not to mention the girls."

Henry rolled his eyes but moved to intervene. "Guys, guys. There's no need. Stay, both of you. Have a good time."

He strode along the crowd to get to the exit door, the same one that was used as an entrance. He received a few bumps along the way. Thrice damned people. Didn't they all have anything else to do on a Saturday night other than flooding that club? Henry could swear the whole lot of London had rushed to Camden Town.

"Tudor, wait!" Edward shouted behind him. "I'm coming with you!"

They fought their way out, not before witnessing a girl wearing a bright fluorescent top throwing up. She left what could only be called a proper pavement pizza at the entrance door, but they were able to sneak around it unscathed.

Outside, Henry was finally able to raise his arms without hitting someone. He inhaled the nigh air, relishing the feeling of freshness filling his lungs once more. Not that he had really cared about those things in the past few weeks, not in the least. He pulled out his cigarette pack and lighter.

"Hey, mate..." Hands on his pockets, Ed eyed him curiously. "I'm sorry about Tom. He can be quite the prick sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Henry raised an eyebrow at him, lighting up a cigarette.

"I know he can be a dickhead when he wants, ok? But he can also be a good friend... In his own way."

"Yes, I believe you." Henry sniggered, taking a drag. He almost pitied Edward for relying on such poor friends. Or maybe that was his own case, actually, though he preferred not to dwell much on the thought.

"Anyways." He sighed. "Why did you come? Go back to the party. You've still got your wristband. Go. Go have fun."

"No, no. It's quite alright." Ed dismissed it with a simple head shake. "There's a nice takeaway just around the corner where we can buy kebab for a fiver. Oh, and they've got chips for a quid!"

Traditional drunk food. "I'm not pissed enough for that amount of grease, thank you. I think I'll pass." He offered his friend a sardonic smile and clapped him on the shoulder as a way of goodbye.

"Tudor—"

Henry stopped and turned. "What?"

Ed hesitated, looking as if unsure of what to say. He scratched his neck. "Why are you acting so bloody weird lately?"

"Weird?" Henry forced a laugh. "I'm not acting weird."

"C'mon, mate! You so are! You've been sulking like a stroppy cow!"

"This is the normal me." Henry puffed and exhaled a thick white cloud, unfazed. "Nothing's wrong with that."

"Of course something's wrong! See, you took up smoking again. I'm trying to help—"

"Why are you trying at all?" His voice came out strained, harsher than he meant to.

"Cause that's what friends do, you daft old sod!"

Ed losing his cool was a novelty, but not something that could unnerve Henry. "At the moment this daft old sod wants to be left alone. Can the friend understand that, or is that so difficult?"

Ed nodded begrudgingly and looked away. "He can."

"Good." Henry flicked off his cigarette and stepped on it. "And goodbye." He moved to leave, not caring if he was littering. Bloody waste of a good fag, that's what.

"Wait, Tudor!" Henry turned once more, seething. "Just don't do anything stupid, ok?"

"Stupid like taking Tom's pills, for instance?"

Their colleague had offered them his ‘magical’ pills as soon as they entered the club. He had said something along the lines of letting go and forgetting their troubles for the night. Of course Henry wasn't daft enough to be tempted.

"Yeah. Precisely like that. Don't do anything you might regret later."

Henry narrowed his eyes at him. "I'm not like that."

"So you say."

"Truly, Ed. You flatter me." He waved him off. "Goodnight."

Henry took the night bus but didn’t go home. Instead he found himself at the banks of the river Thames, feet dangling from the railing. He had another lit cigarette between his knuckles, though he barely kept track of the times it touched his lips. At his side the bright lights of Millennium Bridge crossed the river like an arrow to lead into a pitch of nothingness. They had turned off the lights of St Paul's cathedral that night. It looked abandoned and alone among the financial buildings of the City. A dreary thing that had outlived its time. How very apt, Henry thought, that it should be dark tonight.

Henry sat on the railing looking at that shadowed dome for long stretching minutes. The Bankside area was oddly deserted that hour. If Henry were to go to, say, Covent Garden, or Soho, or Mayfair, or any other area around Westminster, he'd found more than the distant sounds of the passing ambulances or the occasional tourists walking along the river. He liked it that way. He had sat on that same spot another time.

Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

She had recited, the sun setting brightly on her hair. They had stopped at that place one winter afternoon, having visited Bray's office in the City. Lizzie had fetched some papers to take to her mother that day. At the time, the lawsuit against her uncle was an ugly business, one tainted by greed and long-held family grievances. Henry, who had grown up with a loving and supportive uncle, couldn't quite image how it felt like.

"I like to think there's more to life than simply struggling." She said, crossing her ankles and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I like to think there's happiness to be found, if only we look for it hard enough."

"There is." His reassurance, though honest, was feeble.

"I want to live." She gave him a straight look, one that spoke of resolute determination. "Not just survive."

Henry didn't quite know how to respond to that, he simply chose a silent nod. He felt the urge to kiss her there and then, but she looked so unbelievably sad. He wanted to kiss that sadness away, hold her warmth close, bury his nose in her hair. He wanted to shower her with kisses till he heard her laughing under his lips. Lizzie was made for happiness, he knew that with as much conviction as a father knew his child.

He gave her one of his earbuds. "Fancy some music?"

She plugged it and scooted closer. "What you've got there?" She smiled, lips parting slowly.

The sunset had turned her hair to a shade closer to red. Flame and gold.

Sweet Thames, run softly, she had said, till I end my song. Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.

Oh, he would never fall in love again! Lizzie was his first, and his last. From atop the railing, Henry swept the city with one bitter look. And to think he was starting to like it. He had even thought of buying a house there, for God's sake! All the tips Lizzie had given on how to look like a real Londoner — how he should always have his oyster card in hand (not in his wallet, nor in his pocket), or how he should always look like he was running late, even if it was 10 pm and all he had to do was going home. Make yourself look important. — all those tips and... for what?

"Why?" He blurted aloud, though he didn't know if he asked the city, the universe, or himself.

His only answer was silence. There wasn't even the wind blowing that night. The air was stalled; heavy dark clouds gathered in the sky promising rain. Down below, the river ran through silent streams. And for a moment only, he could believe he was deaf.

His phone suddenly buzzed with a text. His cigarette on the lips, Henry instinctively moved his hand to take out his mobile, but thought twice. Why should it matter if anyone was texting him? It was probably one of the lads. Probably Edward asking after him. He slipped a hand through his pocket and turned it off. It was not the best way to thank his friend, Henry knew that much. He cooly contemplated himself for what he was: a bitter man with great ambitions, with the makings of a great leader.

Maybe he didn't deserve love after all. Well, he surely wanted to be loved — maybe that was one of his great ambitions — but did he deserve it? Or better yet, did he need it? He would dissect the feeling, look at it through a medical lens, turn it into numbers and compute it, if only he could. A sudden anger built inside him then. He lifted himself up and stood straight with his two feet on the railing. He surveyed the buildings across the river with one appraising look. He would conquer that city, that country. He would not let himself down. With one look of defiance, he proclaimed: "I will not!"

"Yeah, man! Fuck them!"

Startled, Henry lost his balance. His cigarette fell on the waters below. His right foot slipped, but a hand immediately took hold of him and pulled him backwards, bringing him back to the safety of the ground.

"Careful, bruv! Careful!"

Alarmed, Henry gasped for air, soon undergoing a fit of coughing. One of the strangers patted him on back. "There. Easy, man."

His coughing slowly subdued. Fixing his clothes, Henry eyed the two men standing in front of him warily. Bloody stupidity to let himself be overcome by emotions like that. He could not let that happen again.

"You alright, mate?" The men were sharing a bottle hidden inside a brown paper bag. It was illegal to drink on most streets of London, but that didn't actually stop people from drinking. Of course, one could always engage their local policemen into confiscating their booze in case of insufficient sneakiness.

They passed him the paper bag. "Here, have some. For your coughing."

Henry debated whether he should take the offer or not. Oh, sod it. He took a sip of the drink and gasped, immediately regretting it. "What even is this?!" He pulled out the bottle and searched the label for a definition.

"Shhh. Just drink it, man. You'll feel better."

Henry could almost laugh. "Cheers." He raised the bottle and took another sip. Then another one, and another one. He wiped his mouth before returning it to the strangers.

"I get why you're angry, man." One of them said, gesturing at the financial district across the river. "Briefcase wankers, the lot of them."

Henry supposed he was a briefcase wanker too. Or soon to be one.

"Not worse than the tax-evaders at Buckingham Palace, heh?" The second added, causing them both to laugh. They looked throughly drunk.

Henry felt like he had just walked into a feverish dream. "I'm sorry, you are?" Asking for names was the first step to intimidation, his uncle had taught him once.

"Dev." The first man answered. "And this is Andrew."

"Well, Dev, Andrew. Thanks for the drink." He fake smiled. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

“You're sure you're alright, bruv? We caught you perched on the railing. Not cool, man. Not cool.”

Definitely not cool. Henry felt incredibly stupid. “Mmm, yeah. I’m... fine, thanks.”

“Right. Take care, man.”

“And watch your step!” They laughed again.

Their giggle resonated into the long shadow of the night as Henry walked away. He couldn’t believe he had just received advice from two drunks. Tired, he finally let himself go home. Before entering his flat, though, he sat on the short steps leading to the building and lit another cig, for the smoke alarms in his studio flat prevented him from doing so indoors. It was a nuisance, to say the least, but better to smoke outside than waking the whole block with the noisy alarm. Taking a long drag, Henry looked at his watch: 3:07 am.

He heard footsteps approaching. A pair of ankle boots stopped in front of him.

"Henry?"

He looked up to find Lizzie. Wide-eyed, mouth slightly parted. A question danced on her lips.

No fucking way.

#henry x lizzie #my fic #modern au #flatmates au #henry vii x elizabeth of york #heee #i'm SO sorry to keep you waiting for so long #here's a thing

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