You hadn’t meant to come here.

That was the lie you kept telling yourself as you stood outside the pub, rain slicking the pavement, laughter spilling through the open door like salt in an open wound. This place had always been yours—late nights tucked into corners with Sirius Black, his knee pressed against yours under the table, his grin reckless and soft in ways he never let anyone else see. He used to swear he hated it here. Said it was too loud, too crowded. Said he only stayed because you were there.

And yet—through the fogged glass—you saw him.

Sirius, unmistakable even in a room full of people. Dark hair falling into his eyes, leather jacket shrugged on like armor. And beside him—too close, laughing too easily—someone who wasn’t you. Someone new. Someone who didn’t know the way Sirius went quiet when things got real, or how he used sarcasm to hide the way he felt everything too deeply.

Your chest tightened, anger and heartbreak tangling until you couldn’t tell them apart. You’d left because loving him felt like bleeding out slowly—because the war was coming, because he never promised he’d stay, because he always ran before anyone else could leave him first. You told yourself he’d forget you. That it would be easier that way.

But watching him now, at your place like it meant nothing, you realized the truth was far worse.

The door creaked as you pushed inside, the noise fading when his eyes finally found yours.

Shock flickered across his face—then something darker. Hurt. Fury. Longing. All the things neither of you ever said out loud.

“Well,” he drawled after a moment, voice tight and brittle, standing slowly like he didn’t trust his legs. “Didn’t think you’d ever show your face here again.”