Breaking Serve
The next morning, Regulus woke with a start, his head pounding and his mouth dry. His surroundings came into focus slowly—the familiar layout of his room, the curtains drawn tightly to block out the harsh morning light, the blanket pulled up to his chin. But something was off. The last thing he remembered was James’s quiet presence beside him, the warmth of his hand resting on Regulus’s shoulder. Now, the room was empty. No sign of James, no trace of anyone else. It was like the older boy had never even stepped foot into his room.
He was alone, and the silence weighed heavily on him.
Regulus sat up slowly, wincing as the movement made his head spin. The bed on the other side of the room was untouched, it seemed like Barty had slept somewhere else. Regulus's best guess was that he was bunkering off with some random girl. Then, a second later the events of the previous night came rushing back in a disorienting blur. The party, the alcohol, the crushing sense of isolation that had driven him to flee, stumbling through the corridors… running into James. The sharp pang of embarrassment shot through him as he remembered being sick in front of him, revealing things he had sworn never to speak of.
His throat felt tight. He pressed his palms to his eyes, pushing the memories away. James was not here, and that was fine. It was better this way. Regulus did not need to dwell on it, not needing to think about why James had stayed, or why it had felt strangely comforting to let him.
Shaking off the lingering haze of sleep, he got out of bed and changed quickly into something presentable. His head throbbed with every movement, but he ignored it. After splashing water on his face in the bathroom, drinking some water and brushing his teeth to rid himself of the sour taste of last night’s missteps, he made his way toward the cafeteria.
He had barely stepped into the hallway when he heard the familiar voices of Barty and Evan echoing down the corridor. Regulus felt a knot of tension in his stomach, but he forced his expression into something neutral as he made his way toward them.
“There he is!” Barty’s voice rang out the moment he spotted Regulus approaching, his grin wide and teasing. “The prodigal son returns. Thought you might’ve passed out in some corner last night.”
Evan raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Yeah, we didn’t see you after a while. Where’d you go? You look like hell.”
Regulus gave a half-hearted shrug, fighting to keep his tone casual. “I wasn’t feeling well. Just went back to my room.” He left out the part about how he had nearly collapsed in the hallway, or how James Potter had been the one to help him. There was no way he would mention that. He also ignored asking why Barty did not sleep in their room last night. Regulus though it was better to leave some things unsaid, otherwise Barty would bombard him with every gritty details of the pretty woman he fucked last night and he would rather avoid that.
“Ah, that explains it,” Barty said, tossing a friendly arm around Regulus’s shoulder as they headed toward the cafeteria together. “You missed all the fun. That French swimmer—you know, the one with the attitude—got into a screaming match with the Russian team over something stupid. Almost came to blows. It was brilliant.”
Evan snorted, shaking his head. “They’re all idiots.”
Regulus listened to their chatter, but his mind was elsewhere. He failed to even tell Barty or Evan the full truth, his closest friends. How could he? It was not just the drunken mess he had made of himself—it was the fact that James had been the one to see him like that. The vulnerability gnawed at him, but there was no use letting anyone know.
They entered the cafeteria, which was already bustling with athletes from every corner of the Village. Regulus grabbed a tray and followed his friends to the line, feeling the noise and energy around him, but detached from it.
“So, did you make it back on your own?” Evan asked as they sat down, his tone casual, though there was an edge of curiosity there. “Or did someone have to haul you back to your room?”
Regulus paused, his hand gripping his cup a little tighter. “I made it back,” he said, his voice steady, though his mind flashed back to James guiding him through the hallways, James helping him when he felt like he was falling apart.
Barty snickered. “You sure? You’re not exactly steady on your feet when you’re sober, mate.”
Regulus forced a smirk. “I didn’t need anyone’s help.”
That seemed to satisfy them, and the conversation shifted back to lighter topics—last night’s antics, the competition schedule for the day. Regulus played along, laughing at Barty’s jokes, making snide comments with Evan about their rivals. As breakfast wore on, the dull ache in his head persisted, but the real weight pressing on him was not physical. It was the knowledge that something had changed last night. He had let James in—just for a moment—but it was enough to leave a mark. The memory of how easily he had let his guard down around James. He had spent so many years letting no one in, not even Barty and Even. No one knew the full picture of his abuse, but for some reason he had failed at James. A simple slip up, but now the man knew more than his lifelong friends. What the actuall fuck? Why James? He was just his brother's stupid best friend, with pretty brown curls and strong arms and pretty lips and… NO. Regulus felt his heartbeat faster, God, what was happening, this could not be happening.
Evan glanced over at him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re quiet today, Reg. Too hungover?”
“Just tired,” Regulus replied, keeping his tone light. “Couldn’t sleep well.”
Barty glanced at him with a raised eyebrow but did not press further. Regulus was grateful for that. The last thing he needed was for them to catch onto the fact that there was more to the story than just a bad hangover.
After breakfast, the three of them lingered for a bit, making plans for the day. Regulus kept his responses vague, agreeing to meet up with them later but excusing himself as soon as he could. He needed space, and he definitely needed time to sort through the mess in his head.
As he made his way back through the Village, his thoughts circled back to James once more. Why had he helped? And why did Regulus care so much? They were hardly friends, and he and Sirius were practically at each other’s throats half the time. Sirius would not care if Regulus had been left to rot in the hallway, but James had stepped in without hesitation. It made no sense, and the confusion gnawed at him, but he could not afford to think about it anymore. He shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind, building the walls around himself once more. This was not something he could dwell on. He had to keep it buried, keep it hidden, and pretend like nothing had happened. Like James Potter had never even been there.
Just like always.
—
The next morning, the sun crept in through the thin curtains of James Potter’s room, casting pale rays across the room. It was barely dawn, and the faint light normally would not have woken him, but James was already wide awake. He had barely slept at all.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, James ran his hands through his unruly hair, tugging at it in frustration. His mind was racing, replaying the events from last night over and over again. Regulus Black, drunk out of his mind, vulnerable in a way James had never seen before—or imagined seeing. It was not like James to get caught up in his own head like this. He was always the one who kept things light, easy, always in control. But something about seeing Regulus in that state had shaken him, made him feel like he had crossed a line he did not even know existed.
“Why did I stay with him? Why did I—" James muttered to himself, pacing the room. He had wandered the French building, not able to stand the party any longer and then helped Regulus. And why? Regulus Black was not exactly the first person James would have gone out of his way for. Hell, Regulus and Sirius could barely stand to be in the same room together. But that look on his face last night, that desperate, haunted look…James had not been able to walk away. He could not explain it, even to himself. He just could not leave him there like that.
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the door, jolting him from his thoughts. “James!” A muffled voice came from the other side. It was Mary, his friend and the best tennis player in the world.
“James! You up yet? You’re gonna miss breakfast if you don’t hurry!” she called out, sounding unusually impatient.
James glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was still early enough that he had time to eat, but late enough that Mary was right—it would not be long before the cafeteria started to close up. He had not eaten anything since yesterday, and the nerves gnawing at him were starting to make him feel sick. Still, he found himself stalling.
Another knock, more insistent this time. “Come on, James, I swear, if you don’t open this door, I’ll—" Before Mary could finish, James yanked open the door, his hair sticking up in all directions, his face lined with the fatigue of a sleepless night.
“What?” James asked, his voice sharper than usual. Mary stood in front of him, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the state of him.
“You look like hell,” Mary said bluntly, raising an eyebrow.
James sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know,” he muttered. “Just…rough night.”
Mary pushed past him, stepping into his room without waiting for an invitation. “What the hell happened to you?” she asked, her tone softening as she sat on the edge of his bed, her sharp eyes studying him with concern. “Did you drink too much or something? Because you’re acting like you saw a ghost.”
James shook his head, feeling a fresh wave of frustration rise up in his chest. He did not know how to explain what was going on in his head, not even to Mary, who was one of his closest friends. He was not the type to freak out about things. He could handle pressure, handle conflict—he was an Olympic athlete, for God’s sake. But last night was different. There had been something about the way Regulus had looked at him, the way he had clung to him in those moments of vulnerability, that James could not shake.
“I didn’t drink,” James said, collapsing into the chair by the window and staring out into the brightening sky. “I just…something happened.”
Mary frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Something? Like what? Did Sirius do something? ‘Cause he’s been acting weird, too. Or was it something with the French team?” She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. “Did someone from their team piss you off?”
“No,” James said quickly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t—no, it wasn’t like that.”
Mary looked at him expectantly, her brow furrowed, clearly waiting for him to elaborate. James hesitated, trying to find the right words. He was not sure he could tell her everything, not without betraying Regulus’s trust—if you could even call it that. What he and Regulus had shared last night was not something James could easily explain, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. But at the same time, he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t talk to someone.
“Regulus,” James finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “He…he wasn’t doing well last night.”
Mary’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Regulus Black?” she repeated, as though she could not believe what she was hearing. “What do you mean, he wasn’t doing well? He’s always got his shit together. That guy’s practically a robot.”
James huffed a small, humourless laugh. “Yeah, well, not last night. He was completely wrecked. I found him wandering around the halls, drunk out of his mind. He could barely walk straight, and he…he wasn’t just drunk. He was…” James trailed off, struggling to find the right word. “He was scared, Mary. Like, really scared.”
Mary’s expression softened as she leaned forward, her arms resting on her knees. “Scared of what?”
“I don’t know,” James admitted, his voice strained. “He didn’t say. But he looked like he was about to lose it. I couldn’t just leave him there, you know? I had to help him.”
Mary watched him carefully, her face unreadable. After a moment, she nodded. “That sounds like you,” she said quietly. “You’ve always been the one to help people, even if they don’t want it.”
James ran a hand through his hair again, feeling the tension building in his chest. “Yeah, well, maybe I shouldn’t have. I don’t know if he even wanted my help. I mean, it’s Regulus. He barely tolerates me on a good day. But last night…he let me help him. I stayed with him until he fell asleep.”
Mary’s eyes widened again, and this time she looked genuinely shocked. “You stayed with him? In his room?”
James nodded, his stomach twisting with the memory. “Yeah. He was in a bad way, and I didn’t want to leave him alone. But now…I don’t know. I’m worried I crossed a line.”
Mary leaned back, her expression thoughtful. “You’re freaking out because you helped Regulus? James, you’ve helped people before. This isn’t the first time you’ve stayed with someone who needed it.”
“It’s not just that,” James said quickly, his voice rising with frustration. “It’s…he’s not like other people. He’s complicated. And he made me promise not to tell anyone about it—not even Sirius. He doesn’t want anyone to know.”
Mary studied him for a long moment, her eyes sharp and assessing. “Okay,” she said slowly. “So you’re worried that he’s going to hate you for helping him?”
James shook his head, feeling the weight of his own thoughts pressing down on him. “No, I don’t think he’s going to hate me. I’m just worried… I don’t know, Mary. I’ve never seen him like that. It wasn’t just the drinking. He told me stuff. Personal stuff. About his family. He never talks about that stuff.”
Mary’s face softened with understanding. “Ah,” she said quietly. “That’s why you’re freaking out. You feel responsible for him now.”
James did not answer right away, but he knew she was right. He did feel responsible. He had seen a side of Regulus that no one else had, and now he could not shake the feeling that he had to protect him somehow.
“I just don’t know what to do,” James finally admitted, his voice heavy with frustration. “I don’t even like the guy most of the time. And now I feel like I’m in too deep.”
Mary smiled softly, standing up and walking over to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re in too deep because that’s who you are, James. You care about people. Even when they don’t ask for it. And honestly? I think Regulus probably needed you last night, even if he won’t admit it.”
James looked up at her, the tension in his chest easing slightly. “You think?”
“I know,” Mary said confidently. “And as for what happens next? Just take it one step at a time. Don’t overthink it. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, don’t push him. But don’t beat yourself up for being a good person either.”
James nodded slowly, the knot in his stomach loosening just a little. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
Mary grinned, stepping back and crossing her arms again. “Of course I’m right. Now, can we please go get some breakfast? You look like you haven’t eaten in a week.”
James laughed, the sound a little lighter this time. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.”
As they left his room and headed down to the cafeteria, James tried to push thoughts of Regulus out of his mind, but they lingered stubbornly. There was no telling how Regulus would react to seeing him today, or if he would even remember
—
The afternoon sun hung high over the tennis courts, casting a golden glow on the rows of spectators filling the stands. The crowd was buzzing with anticipation, a hum of excitement that rippled through the stands. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season. Mary, known for her precision and speed, was about to face Pandora, a formidable opponent with a reputation for aggressive play. Both women were at the peak of their game, and everyone knew this was not going to be a simple match—it was going to be a battle.
James, sitting in the front row alongside Sirius and Lily, was trying to focus on the match ahead. Mary had been training relentlessly for this moment, and he knew she had the skill to win. But even as the chatter around the court grew louder, James found his attention slipping. He could not help but glance across the court, where Regulus sat with Evan and Barty.
They were there to support Pandora, of course, but James knew there was more to it than simple loyalty. Regulus was seated with his legs crossed, a picture of composed indifference, but his gaze kept darting toward James, sharp and unreadable. Every time their eyes met, the same charged tension surged between them, as though something significant was about to happen.
James shook his head, forcing himself to focus. This was Mary’s moment. He could not let his mind wander now.
Across the court, Mary and Pandora were warming up. Mary looked fierce, her movements fluid as she tested her swings, her eyes narrowed in focus. She had worked so hard for this, and her determination was palpable. Pandora, on the other hand, moved with a quiet confidence, her long blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail, her expression calm and unreadable.
“Alright, Mary’s got this,” Lily said beside him, her voice firm with certainty. “Pandora’s tough, but Mary’s been on fire lately.”
Sirius nodded, his eyes on the court. “As long as Mary keeps her cool, she’ll be fine. She’s faster than Pandora, and her serves are nearly impossible to return.”
James forced a smile, nodding in agreement. Mary had a killer serve, and if she could keep Pandora on the defensive, she had a real shot at taking this match. But Pandora was unpredictable—she had a habit of pulling off the unexpected at crucial moments, and that is what made her dangerous.
The announcer’s voice boomed over the court, signalling the start of the match. The crowd quieted, the tension building as everyone settled into their seats. James’s pulse quickened, his hands curling into fists in anticipation.
Mary took her position on the baseline, bouncing the ball a few times before glancing up at Pandora on the other side of the net. Pandora stood with her racket loosely in hand, her gaze steady and focused, as though she was sizing Mary up, preparing for the first strike.
The referee blew the whistle, and Mary tossed the ball into the air, launching into her first serve. The ball flew over the net at a blistering speed, heading straight for Pandora’s backhand.
But Pandora was ready. She darted to the side, her racket meeting the ball with a sharp thwack, sending it skimming just over the net and into Mary’s half of the court.
The crowd let out a collective gasp as Mary sprinted forward, barely managing to reach the ball in time. She returned it with a quick flick of her wrist, aiming for the far corner of the court. But Pandora was fast, too. She darted across the baseline, her movements graceful and precise as she sent the ball flying back with a fierce forehand.
The rally had begun.
For several long moments, the ball zipped back and forth between them, the sharp sound of each strike echoing through the stadium. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, watching as the two women exchanged blows with the kind of intensity that only came from years of practice and discipline.
James found himself leaning forward in his seat, his eyes glued to the court. Mary was playing brilliantly, her footwork quick and efficient, her shots powerful. But Pandora was not backing down. She was matching Mary stroke for stroke, her defensive game impenetrable.
“Come on, Mary,” Sirius muttered under his breath, his hands gripping the edge of his seat.
Then, in a swift, decisive move, Mary saw her opening. She darted to the right, sending a powerful cross-court forehand that barely skimmed over the net. Pandora lunged for it, but the ball hit the ground before she could reach it.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Mary won the first point. James jumped to his feet, clapping loudly, a grin spreading across his face. “That’s it! Keep it up, Mary!”
Mary, ever the picture of calm under pressure, gave a small nod before turning back to the baseline for her next serve.
But James’s momentary joy was short-lived. As he sat back down, his eyes flicked across the court, where Regulus remained seated, his expression unreadable. He was not cheering like Evan and Barty, who were loudly encouraging Pandora, but his presence was as sharp and intense as ever.
For a moment, their eyes met, and the unspoken tension between them thickened. James could not help but feel that this was not just a tennis match. It was something more. Something that stretched beyond the lines of the court. He knew Regulus had a bad night and that he himself was there and helped him, but something else felt off. James brushed the feeling of and focused his attention on his friend down on the court.
Mary’s next serve was just as powerful, but Pandora was ready. She returned it with a vicious backhand, sending the ball deep into Mary’s corner. This time, Mary was caught off guard. She scrambled to reach it but was a second too late. The ball bounced out of her reach, and Pandora took the point.
The crowd murmured in excitement as the score evened out. This was not going to be an easy win for either player. Both women were playing their hearts out, and it was clear that neither was willing to back down. The match progressed with an intensity that kept everyone on edge. Each point was a battle, each rally a test of endurance and skill. Mary’s serves were as fast and powerful as ever, but Pandora was proving to be an expert at returning them, her defensive game a wall that Mary struggled to break through.
At one point, Pandora sent a blistering shot down the line, and it looked like it was going to sail out of bounds. But at the last second, the ball clipped the edge of the baseline, staying in by the narrowest of margins. Mary barely had time to react, and Pandora won the point.
James swore under his breath, his frustration mounting as Pandora began to gain the upper hand. The crowd was getting louder now, the energy in the stadium electric as the match reached its halfway point. Both players were drenched in sweat, their faces set in fierce concentration as they fought for control.
“Pandora’s getting too comfortable,” Lily muttered, her eyes narrowing as she watched the game unfold. “Mary needs to shake her off.”
“She will,” Sirius replied, though his tone was not as confident as before. “She just needs to find her rhythm again.”
James wanted to believe that, but the match was slipping away. Pandora was pushing Mary harder with each point, her aggressive style starting to wear Mary down. And James could see it—Mary’s shoulders were tense, her movements not as fluid as they had been at the start.
Then came the moment that sent the crowd into a frenzy.
It was during one of the longest rallies of the match, the ball flying back and forth between the players with a speed that had everyone holding their breath. Mary was on the defensive, forced to return shot after shot as Pandora relentlessly attacked. Each strike seemed harder than the last, the sound of the racket hitting the ball echoing through the court.
Pandora, sensing her chance, sent a powerful forehand deep into Mary’s corner, and for a moment, it looked like Mary would not reach it in time. But then, in an incredible display of athleticism, Mary lunged forward, her racket just barely grazing the ball as she sent it skimming over the net.
The crowd erupted into cheers, but the rally was not over yet.
Pandora, visibly frustrated, sprinted to meet the ball, her feet pounding against the court as she prepared to return it. But as she swung her racket, something unexpected happened. She misjudged the angle, and the ball went flying past her, out of bounds.
Mary had won the point.
The crowd exploded into applause, and James leapt to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest. Sirius and Lily were cheering beside him, their voices drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Even Mary, usually so composed, allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” James shouted, his excitement palpable.
But as the noise in the stadium died down, James’s gaze drifted back to the other side of the court, where Regulus sat. He did not clap or cheer. Instead, he was watching James with an intensity that made the hair on the back of James’s neck stand on end.
Regulus’s grey eyes were cold, unreadable, but there was something in the way he looked at James that felt like a challenge. As if this match—this entire day—was a test, and they were both waiting to see who would break first. Which one of them would break the silence since yesterday and say something, just acknowledge last night.
The game resumed, the score neck-and-neck as both Mary and Pandora fought to gain the upper hand. The rallies were long and exhausting, each point hard-fought, and the tension in the stadium continued to build with every passing minute.
By the time they reached the final set, the crowd was on the edge of their seats. Mary had managed to pull ahead, but Pandora was not far behind. Both players were visibly exhausted, their movements slower, their breaths coming in heavy gasps. But neither was willing to give up.
James could not sit still. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white as he watched Mary take her position for what could be the final serve of the match.
“This is it,” Sirius muttered beside him, his voice tight with anticipation. “She just needs one more point.”
Mary tossed the ball into the air, her face set in grim determination. Her serve was as powerful as ever, the ball flying over the net with blistering speed. Pandora darted to the side, her racket meeting the ball with a loud crack, sending it back over the net.
But Mary was ready. She rushed forward, her racket swinging in a perfect arc as she slammed the ball down the line. Pandora, caught off guard, could not react in time. The ball bounced past her, landing just inside the baseline.
The crowd erupted into cheers as Mary won the final point, securing her victory. James, Sirius, and Lily were on their feet, shouting and clapping as Mary raised her racket in triumph. She had done it. She had won. Across the court, Evan and Barty were clapping politely, but the disappointment on their faces was clear. Regulus, however, remained still, his expression unreadable as he watched Mary’s victory celebration.
As the crowd began to stand and slowly trickle out, still buzzing with excitement from the match, James, Sirius, and Lily made their way down toward the court to congratulate Mary. James’s heart was still racing, the adrenaline from the match coursing through him. However, he could not stop his eyes from scanning the other side of the court, where Pandora stood surrounded by her own supporters. Among them, of course, was Regulus. James caught sight of him, standing a bit behind Evan and Barty, looking distant, a little lost even.
“Mary!” Sirius yelled. They reached the edge of the court where Mary was still catching her breath, her hands on her knees, her smile wide and triumphant.
“You were brilliant!” James said, slapping her on the back with enthusiasm. “Bloody hell, I thought my heart was going to give out during that last set. Pandora had no idea what hit her.”
“Yeah, especially after that backhand in the third set!” Sirius added, eyes wide with admiration. “I swear, you could’ve knocked someone out with that shot!”
Mary grinned, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “I thought she had me at that point. I was ready to pass out.”
“Well, we’re glad you didn’t,” Lily said, her voice warm with pride. “You were fantastic.”
They stood around for a while, laughing and reminiscing about the most intense moments of the match. But James found his attention drifting back to the other side of the court, where Regulus was still lingering. Pandora had already left, presumably headed to the locker room to regroup after her loss, but Regulus stayed behind, seemingly in no rush to follow. He looked like he was trying to blend into the background, his hands shoved into his pockets, his face carefully blank as Barty and Evan spoke in low voices beside him.
Something inside James pushed him forward before he could stop himself.
“I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit,” he said suddenly, breaking away from the group. Sirius gave him a puzzled look, but James waved it off. “Just… something I need to do.”
“Alright,” Sirius shrugged. “We’ll be at the refreshment stand.”
James barely registered what he was saying as he began walking across the court, making a beeline for Regulus. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he was not sure if it was because of the match or because of what he was about to do.
Regulus noticed him coming. James could see the moment he tensed, the subtle stiffening of his shoulders, the way his eyes flicked up briefly before looking away again. But he did not move, did not walk away like James half-expected him to.
When James finally reached him, he stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of how to start the conversation. Regulus’s friends had noticed him by now, Barty’s sharp eyes glinting with something like curiosity, but neither he nor Evan said anything. They just exchanged a glance before moving a few steps away, giving James and Regulus a semblance of privacy.
“Regulus,” James started, his voice a little too casual. “Got a second?”
Regulus turned his head slightly, his expression guarded, as if bracing for something. “I was just about to head out. Pandora’s probably waiting.”
James shook his head, taking a small step closer. “It’ll only take a minute.”
Regulus’s eyes flicked to Barty and Evan, who were still within earshot but pretending not to listen, and he hesitated. “Fine. But make it quick.”
The two of them moved off to the side, away from the other athletes and spectators still milling about. James could feel the tension between them, thick and palpable, hanging in the air like a fog. Regulus stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his posture defensive, as if he were ready to bolt at any moment.
James rubbed the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to start. He was not exactly known for his subtlety, and now was not any different.
“About last night…” James began, his voice quieter now, more careful. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. You were pretty out of it.”
Regulus’s jaw tightened. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I know,” James said quickly, holding up his hands. “I wasn’t trying to—look, I just—”
“You just what?” Regulus interrupted, his eyes narrowing slightly. James felt a flush creeping up his neck. He had not expected this to go smoothly, but he was not prepared for Regulus’s cool dismissal either. It stung more than he wanted to admit. This was nothing like the Regulus he spoke to last night. He was cold, not even wanting to look him in the eye.
James took a deep breath before speaking. “Look, last night... I mean, I helped you because you seemed like you needed it. Not because I was expecting something from you.”
Regulus let out a sharp breath, his gaze darting away as if he did not want to meet James’s eyes. “I was drunk. I probably said things I didn’t mean.”
“That’s the thing,” James said, stepping a little closer, his voice soft but insistent. “I don’t think you did.”
Regulus’s head snapped up, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something vulnerable, unguarded. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold mask he always seemed to wear around people.
“You don’t know anything about me,” Regulus said, his voice quieter now, almost resigned.
“I know enough,” James said, his voice steady. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure. I know you feel like you have to live up to everyone’s expectations, that you’ve got all these people who expect you to be perfect all the time. But you don’t have to carry that alone.”
Regulus looked at him sharply, something like anger flashing across his face. “You don’t get it. You’ve got it easy, James. Everyone loves you. You’re the golden boy, the one who can do no wrong. I don’t have that luxury.”
James bristled at the accusation. “You think I’ve got it easy? You think I don’t feel the pressure too? Just because I don’t show it the same way doesn’t mean I don’t get it. We’re both here for the same reason, Regulus. The Olympics, the competition, the expectations. You’re not the only one dealing with that.”
Regulus clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing with something James could not quite place. But he did not argue, did not walk away.
“And look, I don’t care if we don’t know each other that well,” James continued, his voice a little softer now. “But I care about what happens to you. Maybe that doesn’t make sense, but it’s true.”
Regulus looked away again, his shoulders tense, his breath coming a little quicker than before. “You shouldn’t care,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.
James took a step closer, closing the gap between them. He was not sure what he was doing, was not sure why he felt this strange pull toward Regulus, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“I do, though,” James said, his voice barely above a whisper now. “You matter, Regulus. And not just because of last night.”
For a moment, they stood there in silence, the tension between them thick and almost unbearable. James’s heart was pounding in his chest, his pulse thrumming in his ears. He was not sure what he expected—maybe nothing, maybe something. But whatever it was, it felt like the air around them had changed, like something was about to happen.
Regulus finally looked up at him, his gaze locked with James’s, and for a brief, fleeting second, James thought he saw Regulus's gaze trail downwards. There was something there, something electric, a pull that neither of them seemed to fully understand but could not deny. But then, just as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. Regulus took a sharp step back, his face hardening once more, his expression unreadable.
“Don’t do this, James,” Regulus said, his voice cold again, though it wavered at the edges. “You don’t know what you’re getting into. I’ll just end up hurting you. And besides—” He hesitated, glancing away briefly before meeting James’s eyes again. “You’d be betraying Sirius. He hates me, you know that. Do you really want to do that?”
James felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, the intensity of the moment slipping through his fingers. He opened his mouth to argue, to say something—anything—but no words came.
Regulus did not wait for him to respond. With one last lingering look, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the now-quiet stadium.
James stood there, rooted to the spot, his mind racing, his chest tight with disbelief and something else—something he was not quite named. Regulus had just walked away, leaving him standing there, lost in the confusion of what had just happened and what could have been.
James watched as Regulus disappeared into the shadows, and for the first time in a long time, he did not know what to do next.