Mount Sirius (a small and scraggly foothill) underwent a minor eruption. "Oh, fuck your bloody five o'clock shadow. If it I can handle it, you can." Which wasn't in any way true, as Remus was pulling a job and some measure of respectability while Sirius paced, and thought, and paced, a pit bull on the end of a far-too-short leash. "And while you're at it you can bugger your modest but, y'know, oddly picturesque meals," he spat bitterly, "and your bloody elbow patches, and your bloody bed."
He was moving again, halfway to his feet before he was back again, and he made as if to bury his head in his hands, but let them slip away before it happened, restless on his knees. "What are we doing, Moony?" he repeated, and it was at the same time sharper and more gentle than the last.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-05-16 11:34 pm (UTC)He was moving again, halfway to his feet before he was back again, and he made as if to bury his head in his hands, but let them slip away before it happened, restless on his knees. "What are we doing, Moony?" he repeated, and it was at the same time sharper and more gentle than the last.