Moony had always anticipated the rejection, even before he had ever considered kissing Sirius. He had always known it was inevitable that he'd ask more of Sirius than the other wanted to give, that their friendship wouldn't be able to withstand just how greedily and selfishly Moony relied on Sirius.<br/>His grip had gone limp the moment Sirius pulled away, complacently allowing Sirius to move away from him. Moony had turned his gaze away from Sirius, somewhere a few feet to he left of him. It was, after all, no surprise to him that while Sirius wanted to kiss guys, it didn't mean he'd wanted to kiss Moony. Moony could understand that, and he knew he could fall deep beneath his bedcovers and pillows and reemerge by summer and be okay.<br/>When Sirius elaborated, Moony tensed up with a frightened surprise. His eyes jerked back onto Sirius, a moment of panicked confusion in his gaze as he searched for the context he so clearly didn't understand. And then, for the first time in years, Moony was able to see a glimpse herself through the eyes of the beholder.<br/>Moony's heart dropped with such violence it felt like it had split their being in half, feeling an ache Moony had yet to experience, white hot iron that blurred their vision though no tears came. Once again turning their gaze away from Sirius, Moony stared do the abyss beneath them, fingers gripping at the edge of the platform hard enough for the knuckles to go white.<br/>When Moony finally spoke he no longer recognized his voice.<br/>"Oh," he said, suddenly heartbroken, but in a voice that wasn't his. He stopped speaking after that.