Moony figured he could muster enough strength to snap the stick in his hand. He felt sick to his stomach, desperately wanting an output to the building pressure knotting up his throat. Sirius didn't seem to notice, but the more praise he spoke to James, the smaller and more insufficient it made Moony feel.<br/>It hadn't always been like this, Moony knew that for certainty. Only a few years ago they had spent every waken hour together, and between the frustration and heartbreak, bitter jealousy bloomed in his chest.<br/>"I oughta get back," he choked out, tossing the branch aside. It landed askew, and Moony wondered whether or not Sirius would realize how hurt he was if he stomped on it. Part of him wanted Sirius to notice it; a bigger, more desperate part didn't want to ruin whatever fragile interest Sirius still had in him, so he swallowed every curse on his lip. Either way, Moony was too much of a coward to bring it up himself.<br/>Pulling the cuffs of his jacket further down his wrists, he barely glanced at Sirius.<br/>"Have a good trip tomorrow, Padfoot," he managed, with as little infliction in his voice as possible, any little thing threatening to bring tears to his eyes. "I'll see ya."<br/>He turned around to leave almost before finishing the sentence.