to plea
The air was thick with the quiet hum of summer - warm, heavy, and still. The last rays of the sun clung to the horizon, casting long, golden shadows across the Black family’s sprawling estate. Somewhere beyond the tall iron gates, the world seemed too far away to touch them. Too distant to remind Regulus Black of who he was supposed to be.
But James Potter was a different kind of reminder.
He was leaning against the wall of an old greenhouse, the soft glow of twilight catching the gold rims of his glasses and the unruly mess of his dark hair. His shirt was untucked, his tie long since abandoned, and there was a blade of grass stuck to the cuff of his trousers - an effortless disarray that made him seem both out of place and perfectly at home.
Regulus stood a few steps away, his wand loosely held at his side, though the spell they’d both used to sneak James past the wards had long since settled into the silence. His breathing was steady, but there was a quiet pull in his chest - a soft ache that hadn’t eased since James first appeared at the edge of the wards, grinning like the world couldn’t touch him.
“Reckless doesn’t even begin to cover this, Potter,” Regulus said softly, his voice more a murmur than a reprimand. “If my mother finds out you’re here-”
James took a slow step forward, his grin melting into something gentler. “Then we’ll both be in a world of trouble, won’t we?”
Regulus didn’t smile back - not fully, not here. But his lips twitched at the corner, the smallest betrayal of how James always seemed to press at the edges of his carefully built walls. The weight of his family name hung between them, an unspoken thing, but James never seemed to notice it - or if he did, he simply refused to care.
“Why did you come?” Regulus asked, though he already knew.
James shrugged, his gaze soft and steady. “Why do you think?”
Silence settled between them - not empty, but full. Full of the words they couldn’t say. Full of the quiet want Regulus kept locked away behind the name Black, and the open, unrelenting hope James wore like a second skin.
Regulus’ fingers curled at his side. He wanted to reach out – to touch James’ hand, to let himself believe, just for tonight, that this could be enough. That the stolen moments and whispered secrets could be a life.
But they couldn’t. They never would be.
“You should go,” Regulus whispered, but his voice faltered, too soft, too unsure.
James didn’t move. “I don’t want to.”
Regulus closed his eyes, just for a moment, just long enough to gather the strength to step back. Not far, but enough to build the distance he thought he needed. “You have to.”
James’ jaw shifted, his hand twitching like he might reach for Regulus, as though he might kiss him the way he had once before - soft and urgent and full of everything Regulus couldn’t say.
But he didn’t.
Instead, James whispered, “I’ll see you soon?” like it was a promise.
And Regulus, breaking quietly inside, nodded. “Yeah.”, even though they both knew it was a lie.
The silence that followed wasn’t as soft as before. It felt heavier now, like the space between them had grown too wide to cross. James’ gaze lingered a second longer - long enough for Regulus to memorize the way the fading light caught the curve of his jaw, the worry hidden behind his smile.
“Tomorrow?” James tried again, his voice barely louder than the breeze rustling the leaves.
Regulus didn’t answer right away. His heart was a quiet drum against his ribs, his mind a cruel echo of all the things he wished he could say.
Instead, he reached forward - slow, hesitant - and smoothed the blade of grass still clinging to James’ trousers. It was a pointless gesture, but his fingers brushed against James’ knee for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. A touch so light it could have been an accident.
But it wasn’t.
James inhaled softly, like he might speak, but Regulus was already stepping back again, his hand falling away.
“You should go,” Regulus repeated, gentler this time. It wasn’t a demand - it was a plea.
James' smile faded, but he nodded, the movement small and resigned. “Goodnight, Regulus.”
Regulus didn’t reply. He waited until James had turned away, until his figure melted into the dark edges of the garden, before allowing himself to whisper back into the night.
“Goodnight, James."