A Question Of Need

A worn gray couch was strategically placed in front of a large brick fireplace with an intricately carved oak mantle. The couch at that time was gray but in its prime, it was most likely a bright shade of blue. Time had worn away at it like a terrible disease draining it of all its once vibrant color leaving it dull and seemingly lifeless. Sitting upon this dull gray couch was a man that was almost just as lifeless as the couch. Like the couch, this man in his prime had been vibrant. Time had worn on the couch and on the man that was sitting upon it. Sadly, nothing and no one can completely escape time.


Because of their inability to deal with the passage of time, some people find ways to escape it. The lifeless dull man sitting on the couch is suffered with an inability to deal with certain things that have happened in the passage of time during his life. Mainly, he has trouble dealing with the wonderful past vs. the miserable reality of now. His eyes tell the story of his life; they stare into the crackling fire as though he is trying to capture the flames in his mind forever. These eyes are beautiful and the color of them has not changed a bit since the day he was born.


Gray…not dull like the couch he is sitting on but attentive and vibrant. These gray eyes have a tired look of wisdom in them if you look deep into them. They can be stormy like clouds when the weather is fierce. They can be warm like almost the entirety of an Emperor penguin chicks’ body. The light from the roaring fire reflected in these eyes make them appear dark and mysterious. These eyes belong to none other than Sirius Black. He is wearing an old black robe that is rather big on his thin body. His shoulder length raven colored hair that once shined was now dirty and knotted horribly. He just didn’t give a damn about his appearance anymore. His once full bottle of whiskey lay turned on its side on the once polished wooden floor. His depression was deep rooted.


He lived off spirits that didn’t wear well on a body. He was unshaven and extremely thin. Sirius had always been a thin man but this was outrageous. He had the wasted look of a famine victim; he had not been this thin since his incarceration in the wizard prison Azkaban. Sirius had given up on life. He was without hope and he didn’t care what happened to him. All his hope went out the door with the man he loved. Remus…the name hovered upon his lips every second as if he expected to see him and be able to say his name aloud. It seemed to Sirius that it had been so very long ago indeed that he had seen Remus. How long had it been? Sirius thought to himself. He wasn’t sure but it seemed an eternity to him. Sirius remembered how one simple touch from Remus would set every single nerve in his body on fire with passion.

Sirius usually just passed out on the gray couch from intoxication but sometimes he got up enough gumption to venture upstairs to his bed. When he was awake his thoughts were about Remus and he couldn’t escape these thoughts in sleep. When Sirius awoke he was usually in the grips of his dreams and he turned over expecting to see Remus lying there with him as he had been so many times before. When he saw that his lover was not lying beside him, a great sadness came over him. Sometimes he would cry and sometimes he would walk down to the kitchen and get another bottle of liquor to numb his pain. Sirius needed Remus like a fish needs water. He just didn’t know if Remus needed him in the same way. Sirius remembered their first kiss and he played it repeatedly in his head as if to make it happen again. Sadly, those times are gone thought Sirius.