Chapter 2
I made a Playlist <3
Four Years Earlier
Regulus’ heart thrums a steady beat inside the walls of his chest as he starts down the long hallway, his black platform oxfords clicking against the polished hospital floor, echoing off the walls.
He’s known Charlie for a few months now, but Regulus thinks that no matter how long they’ve known each other, anxiety will still flutter in his stomach as he slowly pushes open the door.
Charlie’s room has as much personality as you can get in a hospital, even for long-term patients. When Regulus had first entered the room, upon his first meeting of Charlie, it felt like stepping into a place that hadn’t been lived in, just endured.
The walls, a dull shade of beige, were bare, offering no trace of the child who was supposed to occupy it. A single window, partially covered with a heavy blind, let in a sliver of muted light, barely reaching the cold, bare furniture.
A chair sat by a desk, unoccupied, as though no one ever bothered to sit there. The room was quiet in a way that wasn’t peaceful, but suffocating, as if it was holding its breath.
The air had the scent of antiseptic, with no hint of something personal or lived in.
No toys, no posters, no stuffed animals—just the faint hum of machines and the steady beeping of monitors. It felt as though the room was designed to be nothing more than a place to sleep and recover, not a space for a child to grow or thrive.
The only personal touch was a small stack of books on the bedside table, their spines facing inward, as though even their titles were a secret.
But what struck Regulus the most was how Charlie seemed to exist in the room, not as a part of it. His presence was a faint echo, not yet imprinted on the space. It was a room waiting for someone to make it their own.
As Regulus became a more frequent visitor, the nine-year old boy’s personality slowly bled through. It felt like a victory when Charlie had spoken for the first time—and the thing is, in every way, it was.
The first few weeks had been nothing but silent support. Every time Regulus entered the room and sat down on the chair beside the bed—-not too close, should it make him feel trapped, but not too far, in case he needed the warmth. Unspoken words weighted the air, leaving it feeling heavy, but not in an uncomfortable sense, somehow.
The first time Charlie spoke, it had been a simple; ‘hello.’
In that one word, in those five letters, was a foundation of trust that meant everything.
It has been three months since that first word, and now, it has become routine.
Regulus lifts one hand in greeting in the direction of Charlie’s nurse, Lily Evans, shooting her a knowing smile as he leans against the wall. “Lovely morning, Evans?”
Lily slowly turns from her desk, her lips pulled into a smirk, though her eyes are full of adoration. “Hell yeah it was. Where have you kept her hidden all this time, Black? I swear, she is just the sweetest–”
“--person you know, and seeing her with Luna makes you want to cry?”
With a roll of her eyes, Lily swats his arm playfully. “Whatever. Now go draw dragons—oh wait, you need a nine-year old to teach you how!”
Regulus grins, pushing himself off the wall and entering Charlie’s room. Calling over his shoulder as he slips inside, “Dora loved it too!” shaking his head as he hears the delighted squeal behind him.
After hanging his messenger bag on the hook behind the door, Regulus shakes off his jacket and smiles at the small boy on the bed. “Hello, Char, how are you?”
Charlie immediately folds up his legs, giving Regulus room to sit on the edge of his bed. “Hello, I had an idea for today!”
Regulus pauses, startled. The pure enthusiasm and excitement is practically radiating off the boy in waves, warming his heart. “Oh, care to tell me about it?”
Charlie shifts, tucking his legs under him and leaning over to grab a plastic box off of his nightstand.
Settling back into his original position, he cracks open the lid and shoves the box into Regulus’ lap. “We can make bracelets! Lily was wearing one yesterday and I asked her about it, and she came back with this box full of colours and instructions—she taught me how to make them, and I was thinking you and I could do it, too?”
As they begin to braid the first few strings, Regulus carefully considers his next words.
He has gotten used to the quiet between them, a comfortable silence that doesn't require words. But now, in the middle of making a bracelet, he feels a sudden urge to share. It’s strange, opening up in this way, but Charlie’s easy enthusiasm is making it feel safer, like it is okay to talk.
“You know,” Regulus begins slowly, his fingers pausing for a moment as he selects a golden thread, “I used to make things like this with someone when I was younger. Not bracelets, but something like it... a different kind of thread, though.”
He looks at the bracelet he is starting to make, his fingers stilling on the thread. “Sometimes it feels like the threads get cut too soon, and everything gets tangled.”
Charlie glances up at him, his little face a picture of concentration. “You mean like when someone leaves? Like when you have to say goodbye?”
Regulus’ heart clenches. He looks down, swallowing hard before continuing. “Yeah, something like that.”
Charlie tilts his head as he ties the last knot on his bracelet, the golden thread a little crooked but no less meaningful. “This one’s for you,” he says, handing it to Regulus. “I picked gold ‘cause you helped me.”
Regulus smiles softly, a flicker of warmth engulfing his chest. “Thank you, Char.” He gently slips the bracelet onto his wrist, the thread of gold shimmering softly under the dim hospital light. “It’s perfect.”
When it is his turn, Regulus carefully chooses his own colors, placing each one thoughtfully.
Gold for Charlie, for the trust they had built over time.
Soft pink for Pandora, who has helped him in ways he can never repay.
Light blue for Luna, because she is a human embodiment of hope.
A soft rose for Evan, his friend who is always there.
Dark purple for Dorcas, who has always been the calm in the storm, the glue to his pieces, and green for Barty, someone who, though far from perfect, has stayed by his side through thick and thin.
He hands the finished bracelet to Charlie with a soft smile. “This is for you, Char. It’s a little bit of everyone.”
For a moment, Charlie’s hands still, his small fingers lightly brushing the bracelet Regulus has made for him. The bright gleam in his eyes dims for just a second, replaced by something more fragile, more uncertain.
Regulus notices, his heart thudding in his chest as he reaches out, gently resting his hand over Charlie’s. “What’s wrong, Char?”
Charlie’s voice is barely above a whisper, laced with vulnerability. “What if you don’t come back?”
The simple words pierce Regulus’s heart, and he finds himself at a loss for a moment. He wants to reassure Charlie, to promise that he will never leave. But the words are caught in his throat. He isn’t sure he can make such a promise—not when everything around him is so unpredictable.
Instead, he squeezes Charlie’s hand gently. “I’m not going anywhere,” Regulus says softly. “And if I ever do, you’ll always have this,” he adds, holding up the bracelet. “It’s not just string—it’s me, too. Right here.”
Charlie looks up at him, his face lighting up once again as he nods. “Okay,” he whispers, tilting his head slightly so his honey brown curls dangle to the side. “I’ll remember.”