The villa was perched precariously on the cliffside, overlooking the shimmering waters of the Mediterranean. The salty breeze teased the white linen curtains, carrying the aroma of lavender and the faint hum of cicadas. You had come here for solitude—or at least that’s what you told yourself. A reprieve from the chaos, the loss, the endless expectations that came with being...well, you. And yet, you weren’t alone. Not entirely.

Sirius had arrived unannounced, as he always seemed to, with that signature smirk and a trunk of questionable belongings. “You weren’t planning on enjoying this paradise all by yourself, were you?” he’d teased, plopping down onto the nearest chaise lounge with the audacity of someone who belonged.

Now, days later, you found yourself navigating the peculiar rhythm of sharing your retreat with him.

You glanced over to where Sirius was sprawled across the deck, shirtless, his inky hair spilling over the back of a wooden chair. He was sketching something, his brow furrowed in concentration. Every so often, he’d glance up at you, his silver eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’re staring,” he drawled, not looking up this time.

“I’m not staring,” you lied, though the slight heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

“Mm, sure. Must be the sun. It has that effect on people,” he mused, tapping his quill against his lip in thought. “Or maybe it’s just me.”

“Maybe it’s your ridiculous tan lines,” you shot back, trying to hide your grin.

That earned a laugh—a real one, deep and carefree. It was a sound you hadn’t heard in years, and it stirred something in your chest.