They dunked their head, holding their breath for a few moments. It was a ritual that Sirius adhered to every time that they found themself in water. For a sliver of time, they could just  be. Nothing mattered—not their unfinished draft or their messy flat or their shattered heart. They listened to the noises of the flat, somehow both amplified and deadened through their submerged ears, and lifted their body from the bottom of the tub, allowing themself a moment to float, held by the water, by something more than themself. Then, they resurfaced. 