I need to write. I need to create something again. Having my throat meddled with all summer and having writer's block for so long have converged and conspired to make me feel like I've been silent for months. I feel like I haven't said anything meaningful, to anyone, in far too long. And I love my friends, but none of us like the same things, and
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Sirius is hanging upside down from a staircase rail when he realizes he loves Remus.
It's an idle thought, meant platonically: The best part about this is that I know Moony will come and get me. The others'll leave me to hang. Merlin's beard, do I love Moony.He blinks, partly in surprise at himself and partly because his eyes are watering. His brain backtracks. A thought that ought to have passed unnoticed, as most thoughts did in Sirius' doggish mind, sticks uncomfortably like stray threads on the ragged edge of a truth Sirius has never noticed before. The thought flutters and tickles the rest of his mind. He tries to shift his weight and slips down another few inches. The rope tied round his feet is getting highly uncomfortable ( ... )
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