...Sirius had never kept him waiting before...Sirius had risked everything, always, to see Harry, to help him...If Sirius was not reappearing out of that archway when Harry was yelling for him as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he could not come back...That he really was...
And will 'a not come again? And will 'a not come again? No, no, he is dead, Go to thy death bed: He will never come again.
And then something invisible snapped insider her, and that which had come together commenced to fall apart.
I carry the seeds of death within me and plant them wherever I linger long enough to love.
Where is my chance to be somebody's Peter Van Houten?' He hit the steering wheel weakly, the car honking as he cried. He leaned his head back, looking up. 'I hate myself I hate myself I hate this I hate this I disgust myself I hate it I hate it I hate it just let me fucking die.
Y'all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.
She had loved him for such a long time, she thought. How was it that she did now know him at all?
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