"Sort your life out, mate," Remus ordered him, a challenging look in his eye. "Get
over this jealousy, because until you make a final decision about Mia, I am going to be
there anytime she wants me.. ." He leant in close, and Sirius could see the wolf behind his
friend's eyes. Remus growled low with a provoking tone, "And she wants me... often."
Shaking with envious resentment, Sirius declared, "She wanted me first.
She wanted me first, and she kissed me first. I can still remember every detail. I bet her lips
still taste like firewhisky, don't they?" He smirked, attempting to ruffle his friend's fur.
Remus merely grinned at him, completely unperturbed. "The rest of her tastes like
honey."
Once he left the Room of Requirement, Sirius's plan was to track Mia down in the
Gryffindor common room and give her a piece of his mind. He wanted to be angry with
her but knew that he did not have any right to be. Still, drunk as he was, he let his emotions
carry him through the corridors. He did not even make it back to the Gryffindor tower
before he caught her scent in the air and turned, spotting her in the corner of a dark alcove
in the back of a corridor on the fifth floor.
She was crying.
He could see the moonlight reflected on her tear streaks, the large window letting
in enough light to illuminate her face. He frowned and slowly made his way over to her,
no longer determined to yell or scream, instead intent on apologising. Merlin, he hated it
when she cried.
Swallowing hard as he approached her quietly, he softened his gaze as he whispered,
"Mia."
When she lifted her head, he did not see the sadness he expected; he saw righteous
anger flashing in the depths of her glare. He was shocked at the sight—but far too
inebriated to react—when she slapped him hard across the face, turning his head to the
side from the strength of it. His head turned back, slow and deliberate, a dangerous growl
crawling its way out of his throat as he set his gaze upon her.
She drew in a sharp breath. It looked like she had a torrent of angry things on the
tip of her tongue ready to fling at him, but she did not have the chance to say any of them