the snow fell in soft chunks, white square shaped clusters. regulus’ boots slipped through the fresh snow on beat with the flicker of the street light. it was dark and cold and he hurried to his apartment to escape the snowfall. upon opening the door, he shook his head to free his dark curls of snow, pulling a reddened hand out of his pocket to wipe at his nose.
after a shuffle on the carpets, regulus bounded up the three floors of stairs to find the one he lived on. the hallways were cold, too. plain cement walls did little to fight off the french winter.
he knocked softly as he entered his apartment, quietly announcing his arrival despite the hustle of the kitchen and the unlikeliness that his knock would have been heard.
as he kicked off his shoes and unzipped his coat, he listened to his best friends tell stories of their days. barty animatedly described a fight in the mall, seemingly over a singing teddy bear.
“reg! glad you’re home,” barty smiled when regulus shuffled into the kitchen. barty placed a hand on his shoulder and evan sent his a warm smile and a wave from his seat at the counter.
regulus moved to flick on the kettle before finding a seat beside evan. evan glanced up at him from his activity- christmas card making of course- and asked about his day.
“mm, busy. i’m so sick of christmas music.” regulus huffed softly, leaning his head on his hand.
“i bet. well, you’re safe from it until next year now i suppose.” evan replied. “oh!” he remembered, eyes widening slightly.
“mail came in for you!” evan smiled, reaching over and pushing a small pile of mail toward regulus. regulus reached for the pile, picking up a package from the top and glancing over at evan, who was already smiling slyly. of course he was able to guess his gift from the package alone.
“thanks, ev.” regulus shook his head as he shuffled through the rest, but stopped once he reached the end.
at the bottom of his small pile of last-minute gifts laid a card wrapped in a red envelope, one corner slightly roughed up to reveal some white. he breathed in deeply as he read the front, recognizing the messy blue ballpoint writing without a second thought.
carefully, he picked it up and silently made his way to the couch, his grey eyes never leaving the letter in his hands. once he folded himself onto the corner of their couch, he gingerly began to open it.
he hadn’t spoken to his brother in years. he was sure that he never would again. his hands shook as he tore it open, tears springing to his eyes as he thought of his brother sitting at a desk, writing a letter for him, licking it shut and walking to the post box to send it. the small act seemed so big after years of silence.
the front of the card displayed a penguin on ice skates with a scarf around its neck. regulus felt at the glittered snow around the penguin and how it was rougher than the rest of the card. hesitantly, he finally let it fall open.
Regulus,
It will soon be Christmas, and I wish that things were different. I am writing this letter because a friend of mine saw you around in France and told me that you seemed happy. It is not that I don’t want you to be happy, but I do need you to know that this changes nothing.
I understand that things have changed. you and I have changed, but in my head you are still the golden boy who was everything but kind to me. You were my brother, and you were so awful. It killed me every second that I stayed in that haunted house, and it was not only because of Mother and Father.
Your choice to change, to leave, to become better does not change how you were back then. I don’t think that I will ever be able to speak to you without seeing who you once were.
I don’t mean to rub who you were back then in your face, and I certainly don’t mean to hurt you. I just need to make sure that any thought you may have had about finding me once you finally got things right, stays a mere thought. I love you, but I don’t ever want to hear from you again.
I really do hope that you are happy, but i can’t be around to see it. I hope you can understand.
Merry Christmas, Regulus. Please don’t call.
the shriek of the kettle forced regulus out of his foggy mind. without control of his own movements, he got up and moved the kettle from its stand.
numbly, he reached into his pocket to find his phone. the screen was still cracked from the night he left his family home. he could still hear the faint yelling from his mother.
he clicked it on, and pressed on the phone icon. what stared back at him were the few contacts he had in his phone. his friends, his boss, and his brother. he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out harshly as he found the strength in him to do it.
in the split second of strength he had willed himself into, regulus pressed onto sirius’ contact.
a tear escaped his eye. he clicked on the option to delete.
merry christmas, i won’t call.