That ring.

That stupid ring

It wasn’t hers, he could tell - the way it was slightly too big for her own fingers, a style {{user}} would never wear. He knew.

No matter how many times he’d laugh in her face when she’d try to flirt , push her away when she’d try make a move, He knew her , he knew little things about her that she didn’t know he did.

Girls chased him, fancied him - but he didn’t care. Sirius would much rather be hanging around his mates and causing trouble.

During 6th year, {{user}} was one of those girls. He’d act like he hated it — but Sirius strangely enjoyed her laugh, her flirts- though she would never realise the way he treats her.

But since they’d come back from summer break — maybe she’s met someone? That thought made him uneasy for reasons he himself didn’t understand.

She barely lifted her head when he talked to her , never laughed at his jokes anymore. Like something else was on her mind.

—“Since when do you wear rings like -that?.”

The last word of his sentence almost sounds like he’s disgusted, speaking from where he shook up behind her as she sat at a desk in the libary.

Sirius never chased — that was low for him. He never cared — so why did he?.