Unlike the way he kissed her halfway down the aisle, Sirius stepped forward gently,
reverently. He remembered the moment he opened his eyes after being pulled back from
the veil, fully expecting to meet his maker, only to be faced with the sight of chocolate
eyes—now once again amber—as they stared down at him with worry. The worries were
long gone, he realised, and all there was left to do was live.
So he kissed her with that in mind.
When he pulled away, deaf to the sounds of cheers around them, he smiled at the
sight of a gentle blush on her skin.
"One day you won't do that anymore," he whispered, touching her cheek.
Raising a curious brow, she asked, "Do what?"
"Be embarrassed about how I make you feel."
Mia laughed, the sound sweet and light and full of endless possibilities.
Sirius grinned and kissed her again, drinking in the taste of her: his witch, his wife.
She tasted how firewhisky felt.