The One Where Everyone Loses Their Chill
James hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.
Well, that was a lie. He had expected it. Had planned for it, really. Had started writing in the café every morning like some absolute maniac, just on the off chance Regulus might return to his Spot of Literary Judgment. But he hadn’t expected conversation.
“You’re back,” James said, too brightly, as Regulus approached his usual table like it had been reserved just for him by the ghosts of sarcasm past.
“Don’t make it weird,” Regulus replied, sliding into the seat opposite. “It’s a public café, not your writing shrine.”
James smirked. “Still reading?”
“Still judging.”
“Still brooding?”
“Still writing dialogue like that?” Regulus quipped, one brow perfectly arched.
James let out a laugh and held up his notebook, flipping it around to show a messy page of notes and half-sentences. “Actually, I was hoping you’d look at something.”
Regulus blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Just a bit of the new draft,” James said. “You know. Since you’re so devastatingly honest. Thought I’d get ahead of the carnage this time.”
Regulus eyed the notebook like it might explode. “You want me to critique your writing. Again. After I called your last book and structurally confused.”
“And yet,” James grinned, “you finished it. With annotations.”
Regulus looked mildly offended. “You read my annotations?”
“You left them in the margins,” James pointed out. “In glitter gel pen.”
“…It was the only pen I had at the time.”
“I think your note on chapter twelve said, and I quote, ‘Oh, now you decide to have an emotional arc?’”
Regulus flushed faintly and cleared his throat. “Do you want the notes or not?”
“I want everything,” James said, before his brain caught up to his mouth. “I mean—the notes. Yeah. The writing stuff. Cool. Great.”
Regulus stared at him.
James smiled, all teeth and nerves.
Then Regulus looked down at the page, picked up his own pen from his coat pocket, and started scribbling. And just like that, something settled. For exactly four minutes and seventeen seconds. Because at minute four-eighteen, James’s phone buzzed on the table with such violent urgency that Regulus glanced at it, frowned, and raised an eyebrow.
“Everything alright?”
James checked the screen.
SIRIUS [12:04pm]:
> EXCUSE ME
SIRIUS [12:04pm]:
> YOU MET MY BROTHER
YOU MET MY BROTHER BEFORE I INTRODUCED YOU?
REMUS [12:04pm]:
> Told you this would be hilarious.
PETER [12:05pm]:
> Is this the coffee shop guy??
SIRIUS [12:05pm]:
> I AM BEING ROBBED OF A FAMILY MEET-CUTE
James quickly flipped his phone over.
Regulus blinked. “Do I want to know?”
“Group chat,” James said quickly. “Just my friends being... themselves.”
Regulus tapped his pen against the notebook. “One of them wouldn’t happen to be named Sirius, would he?”
James opened his mouth. Closed it. Sighed.
Regulus smirked. “Thought so. He’s been trying to set me up with his ‘unreasonably charming friend’ for months.”
James flushed. “And?”
“And,” Regulus said, “I told him I wasn’t interested in charming.”
“Oh,” James said, trying and failing not to look disappointed.
“I like irritating,” Regulus added lightly. “Keeps me on my toes.”
James’s heart did a little jump. The air between them shifted. Regulus looked down, flipping to the next page, and circled a sentence. “This bit? You’re trying too hard again.”
James leaned in, grinning. “Still not boring, though.”
Regulus didn’t look up, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Unfortunately.”