Bright Water

August 1982

Regulus sighed. “Why is it, Evan, that I’m not allowed to go out and get some shopping done?” He was beginning to grow tired of it. All morning, Evan had insisted that he must not step outside. First, Regulus wanted to take a walk; that was, of course, out of the question because the sun was shining, and apparently, he was a vampire. How inventive! Then he wanted to go to the library to borrow a book; that too was forbidden because the nearest library was old, and apparently, the roof would fall in on him. What a wonderfully absurd excuse! And now he wanted to go shopping, but that was also off the table. He wondered what ridiculous excuse Evan would come up with next.

“Um, well... you can’t because... because... it’s the last day of the summer holiday, and you should enjoy it before it’s over!” Evan looked rather pleased with himself, which was ridiculous, as there was absolutely nothing to be proud of. Well, perhaps his charm, but he certainly wasn’t using it right now.

“Seriously, Evan? I can’t go out because it’s summer holiday? I don’t even have a job, so tomorrow won’t be any different! Besides, I really need a watermelon.”

Regulus glared, hoping to be allowed to go outside. This was all so unnecessary; it was Regulus’ house after all, so it was him who should be calling the shots, right? If only Evan would stop blocking the way to the hall, Regulus could use that as an excuse to slip out. He had nothing to do here, so he might as well get the shopping done.

“Mm, let’s just say it’s because it’s the last summer day. Tomorrow it will be September. You should enjoy today! Barty can go out shopping. He has nothing to do until tomorrow when his job starts!”

Regulus sighed. Barty could certainly go out shopping, but Regulus preferred to do it himself. Moreover, Barty would just end up tattooing the watermelon rind or giving it a piercing. Barty had been flitting between two different jobs since they left school; one as a piercer and the other as a tattoo artist. When people found out, they always had their little "Oh" moment. Barty had piercings all over his face and tattoos up both arms. Right now, he was obsessed with drawing roses. Regulus often found little scraps of paper with rose drawings scattered about the house. Honestly, it was quite sweet; a mad lad with a soft spot for roses. Regulus had of course considered whether it had anything to do with the similarity between "Rosier" and "roses." Barty certainly had an obsession with Rosier.

“Alright, fine. I’ll stay in. Happy now?”

Evan nodded eagerly and ushered Regulus back into the living room. Barty was already sitting on the sofa, and Evan walked over to him.

“Barty, can you go out shopping?” Evan asked, blinking dramatically. It shouldn’t have worked, but it did.

“What should I buy?”

“Watermelon!” Regulus exclaimed.

“Anything else?”

“How about dinner?” That was Evan.

“Got it. See you.” And with that, Barty slipped out of the room without protest. That was new! You could hear the door slam, and then there was silence. Evan plopped down where Barty had just been sitting, and Regulus stood there in the living room. He truly had nothing to do at home, so he didn’t understand why Evan was keeping him indoors. It wasn’t fair! If only Evan could stop acting like an idiot and explain why he wasn’t allowed outside, then—

The doorbell rang.

“Ah, that’s probably Barty forgetting his car keys. Can you get it?”

Regulus didn’t reply but walked out into the hall and headed for the door. It was dark, even though it was still early in the day. Yes, it must be around noon. The knocking sounds repeated, this time more insistent. Regulus sighed and braced himself for all the light that would come flooding in when he opened the door.

And there stood James Fleamont Potter. Fucking Potter! Regulus had to admit he was brave. The last time he had shown up, he had left with a bloody nose. Regulus let his gaze drift over him. He was wearing a gaudy, colourful shirt tucked into his baggy trousers. And there, in his left hand, he held a bouquet of flowers. Flowers! The boy was impossible.

“Potter,” Regulus said coolly, letting his gaze rest on the flowers. It was almost comical.

James’ smile widened, in a way only James could manage to be both charming and annoying at the same time. “Oh, what happened? Last time you called me James—are we really back to Potter?” he asked playfully, as if it were perfectly normal for him to be standing on Regulus’ doorstep. He cast a glance over Regulus and ended up pouting. “You’re not wearing my shirt.” Regulus sneered, and James got the message.

“Uh, yes—sorry. That was—” James stopped himself and started again. “I thought maybe flowers could soften you up a bit.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but his heart began to race a little faster. He could still vividly recall their last meeting. Not because it had been traumatic, but because it had been a moment of uncontrolled rage. James had said something—he couldn’t even remember what—and Regulus had reacted by giving him a bloody nose. Not because James had deserved it, but because Regulus didn’t know how else to handle the overwhelming feeling James always stirred in him.

Regulus took a deep breath. Even now, with James standing in front of him wearing that same smile, there was a part of him that panicked inside. Not over what had happened, but over what could happen. Every time James was near, he felt his otherwise controlled facade wavering. As if he could lose control again.

“Flowers, Potter?” he asked, his voice cold. “Do you really think it will work?”

James shrugged and held the flowers out to him. “It has worked before, hasn’t it? Plus, I heard you might have a soft spot for roses.” His tone was teasing, and his eyes sparkled with an internal joke.

From the living room, Evan could be heard laughing, and Regulus felt his face grow hot. Of course, it was Evan who had told James he was free today. That was why Regulus hadn’t been allowed to go out. James sighed. “Fuck you, Evan!” The only response Regulus received was a laugh. Regulus looked sceptically back at the bouquet. He should slam the door and leave James standing outside with his ridiculous flowers and even more ridiculous ideas. But as always… he couldn’t. Something about James, the relentless optimism and the irritating charm, made it impossible.

“What do you want?” Regulus asked shortly, finally meeting James’ gaze. Inside, he was still grappling with himself, but on the outside, his voice was as calm and cool as ever.

James lifted the bouquet and took a deep breath. “I’d like to take you out. Just the two of us. Nothing dramatic – just an evening away from… all of this.” He cast a glance past Regulus into the dark house, as if he could sense how claustrophobic it felt.

Regulus furrowed his brow and let his gaze roam over James. The panic inside him was growing. This wasn’t what he had expected. That James would come back so soon – and act as if nothing had happened.

“And why on earth should I say yes to that?” he asked, still calm, but inside he felt like a rope stretched too tightly. He knew why he wanted to say yes. But he would never give James that satisfaction.

James hesitated for a moment, as if he were considering his next move. Then it came. “Because I know you won’t hit me back. And because I know you wouldn’t have done it in the first place if you didn’t… if you didn’t feel something.”

Regulus froze. His face remained stone-faced, but his heart was pounding against his ribs. James had hit on something he hadn’t intended to open up about. The panic was close to suffocating him, but he refused to let it show.

“I did it because you’re annoying,” he said sharply, feeling how the words didn’t quite match his feelings. “It had nothing to do with how I… feel.”

James leaned in, still wearing that crooked smile. “I don’t believe that. Come on, Reg. You can’t hide behind that facade forever. Let’s go out. I promise, no bloody nose this time.”

Regulus stared at him, unsure whether to shut the door or throw the flowers at James’ head. But he did neither. Instead, he surrendered to that part of him that always longed for these little moments. James’ constant teasing, his ability to make Regulus feel seen in a way no one else did.

Regulus let out a slow, resigned exhale. “If I say yes… will you stop pestering me?” he asked, though he knew he didn’t want James to stop.

James’ smile widened even more. “Maybe. But only until next time.”

Regulus liked seeing James beg, and he hadn’t seen enough yet. He wanted to see more. He actually enjoyed it so much that he couldn’t help but smile a little.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

James sighed. “Then I’ll convince you otherwise. Just come on, Reg.”

Regulus watched him with a smile and hummed lightly. Now James had finally started begging, and it wouldn’t hurt if he continued. He let his gaze glide up to James until it met his eyes. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, but then something shifted in James’ gaze. It was as if a puzzle piece fell into place and everything made sense to him. He stepped closer. So close that Regulus could easily count every single eyelash. Then he angled his large body towards Regulus, closing most of the distance that had separated them. The movement had been unexpected, so Regulus gasped.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

James reached out his arm and tucked a lock of Regulus’ hair behind his ear. He lowered his voice. “You always fight against me. You resist my words.”

Regulus looked up to study his hazel-brown eyes. They were staring directly at him. He tilted his head down towards Regulus, and his mouth neared the spot where his fingers had been just moments before.

“It’s as if you want me to beg you for permission. Would you like that? If I begged?” He smelled of cinnamon and rain on moss. “Is that what it’s about? That you like to see me on my knees?”

Fuck.

Two points to James, who once again had seen through the unreadable Regulus Black.

Regulus could feel a strange warmth spreading in his cheeks. It was unwelcome, so he did everything he could to make it disappear. James held his gaze. “Let me take you out, okay? I really want to.”

He slowly withdrew, and Regulus felt composed again. Cold.

Regulus rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips nonetheless. “Fine,” he said, still in a cool tone, but with an underlying warmth that only James could draw out. “But one wrong comment, Potter, and you’ll get a new bloody nose.”

“Deal,” James laughed, triumphant as ever. “I’ll take care.”

Regulus took the flowers and slammed the door in James’ face without further explanation. His heart was still racing in his chest. Inside, he was still confused, still a bit scared of what this could mean. But one thing was certain: James had always managed to draw him out of the darkness, even when he himself refused to admit he needed it. Regulus walked straight into the living room and looked at Evan.

“I seriously need to find some new friends!” With those words, he marched out and up the stairs. When he reached his room, he placed the flowers on the table and went straight to the dresser. He had intentions of drying them later, but right now, he needed to find some rings. He opened a small box on the table and began to rummage through it. It was crammed with silver rings in all sorts of different shapes and sizes. He picked up a snake ring, a skeleton ring, a simple one, and two with stones. Two for one hand, three for the other. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but one thing was for sure; it wasn’t a good idea. If he was wise and took care of himself, he wouldn’t go. Fuck that!

Regulus hurried down the stairs and found Evan standing in the doorway chatting with James. What. The. Fuck.

“—I’ll have him home by 7 at the latest, alright?”

“Yes, that sounds reasonable. But if he gets home later, you won’t just get a bloody nose this time, James.” Evan, the irritating twat.

Regulus, having heard more than enough, strode towards the two boys. He cleared his throat to make them aware of his presence. Evan and James turned around at once, as if they had both been caught in something. James gave him an innocent smile while Evan merely raised an eyebrow, as if he expected Regulus to back out of the situation.

“Regulus,” James said in a nearly playful tone. “I promised Evan I’d take good care of you.”

Regulus stepped closer, his gaze blazing with irritation. “I can take care of myself, Potter,” he replied sharply. “And you,” he continued, staring at Evan. “need to stop playing matchmaker. This isn’t some romantic comedy.”

Evan shrugged, as if he were completely innocent, but there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. Of course, that’s what he loved to do, setting people up, but as soon as it came to Barty—uh, that wasn’t cool.

“I’m just trying to help you get out of the house a bit. It’s good for you,” Evan said. James, apparently still enjoying Regulus’ reactions, stepped forward and offered Regulus his arm in a theatrical gesture. “May I have the honour, Mr. Black?”

Regulus rolled his eyes again, but this time it was mixed with irritation and a little bit of nervousness. He knew he was getting swept away. But what could he do? James had a way of worming into his thoughts and making him make decisions he normally would never consider. He wouldn’t let that happen. Hopefully.

“Only one thing, Potter,” Regulus said coolly, ignoring James’ arm and instead walking past him out the door. “If you think this is a date, you’re mistaken.”

James’ laughter sounded behind him as he followed. “Of course, Reg. Just two friends hanging out.”

“We’re not friends,” Regulus muttered, but he couldn’t help but smile a little to himself.

As they stepped out into the sun, wrapped in the clear late summer air, Regulus felt something shift inside him. Maybe Evan had been right after all. Maybe he needed to get away a bit, even though he would never admit it out loud. James walked beside him, not pushy but also not completely withdrawn. Just James, always present, always ready to challenge him.

They walked down the street, and Regulus let his thoughts linger on the flowers he had left in his room. He didn’t like to admit it, but they were actually beautiful, even if they weren’t his favourite. And somehow, they had already softened his insides a little, even if they weren’t his favourite.

“So what have you actually planned?” Regulus asked without looking at James. “And don’t be too dramatic, Potter.”

James chuckled lightly and tilted his head. “Just wait and see. I promise, no drama this time.”

Regulus was still sceptical. He didn’t like being unprepared or lacking knowledge about the situation.

“James,” Regulus’ voice was low. “Will you please tell me where we’re going?” He hated how he sounded so weak.  He sounded pathetic, and Regulus certainly didn’t like it. He looked up at James and found him already staring.

James looked almost flustered, as if Regulus’s fragility made him uneasy. “Yes—oh, of course, Lucy, we’re going to a museum. The National Gallery, to be more precise.”

Regulus nodded and was just about to reply when it dawned on him what James had said. Lucy? Was that some girl he was seeing?

“Who is Lucy?” It didn’t come out as sharply as Regulus had hoped, but it was better than nothing.

“Well, everyone calls you Reg—the first part of your name—but no one calls you the last part. I thought I’d do that, but it sounded weird with ‘Lus,’ so it became Lucy. Is that okay?”

Oh, was this man just wonderful. Absolutely fucking perfect! Spotless! Pure and sincere!

Regulus nodded again, but this time a smile played at the corners of his mouth. They walked down a quiet street in a residential area. They couldn’t be walking the whole way, could they? James may have been on the football team when they were at school, but there was no way he could still be in that good shape. It certainly looked that way, though. His muscles were evident even through his clothes. They seemed eager to spring forth and show themselves to the world. Regulus wouldn’t actually mind seeing them try.

“Are we walking all the way?”

“No, my car is parked a little way from here; we’ll drive the rest of the way.”

They walked in silence towards the car.

James was, of course, a fantastic driver. Regulus sat in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on the streets outside as James navigated the city with a precision that was almost infuriating. The car glided effortlessly through the traffic, as if it were floating, and James seemed to enjoy the little silence they had between them, which was something that rarely happened. Although Regulus had seldom spent time with James, he knew one thing: James talked a lot! And once he got going, it was hard to get him to shut up. Regulus observed his relaxed posture with a mix of irritation and fascination. Of course, he was a fantastic driver. Naturally.

“I really didn’t know which flowers you liked best,” James broke in, shattering the silence. “So I just bought some random ones. It was a bit of a gamble.”

Regulus frowned slightly and turned his head towards him. “Random?” His voice was barely astonished, but there was a hint of sceptical disapproval.

James shrugged without taking his eyes off the road, the corners of his mouth curling into a lopsided smile. “Yeah, you know. Roses always seem like a safe choice, but... who knows? Maybe you prefer tulips. Or lilies? I’m not exactly an expert. That’s why I asked my friend Lily. Lily Evans. Do you know her? Anyway, she’s opened a lovely flower shop; I should take you there one day. Then you can choose your own flowers. She helped me.”

Lily.

Fucking.

Evans.

She had helped him? So, James had told her about Regulus?

“Yeah, that carrot?” Regulus smiled to himself, but it quickly faded when James started speaking again.

“Hey, don’t call her that. You can call me whatever you want, but Lily—she doesn’t deserve it, okay?”

Regulus didn’t respond, and James turned his gaze towards him.

“Lucy, it wasn’t meant to reprimand you—or it practically was, but not to be spiteful. She’s just... she’s been a bit sensitive about those kinds of comments,” he said, placing a hand on Regulus’s knee before continuing. “She is helping me after all, with the flowers, right? Maybe you could be a bit helpful too. Tell me what flowers you prefer?”

Regulus turned his gaze back to the road, and the slightest hint of a smile played on his lips, although he quickly reined it in. “I refuse to tell you which flowers I prefer,” he said coolly, even though his voice held a tone of something undefinable.

“Oh, of course you do,” James replied with a light laugh. “You love being mysterious.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Maybe I just want to avoid you overexerting yourself with your desperation to impress me.”

James laughed again, a warm and genuine laugh, and Regulus let himself relax for just a moment.

They approached the museum, and the streets were already filled with people bustling in and out of shops. James kept driving until they were about a ten-minute walk from the museum, then found a parking space and backed in elegantly.

Regulus was just about to open the door when James let out a shrill sound.

Regulus looked over at a very panicked James, who looked indescribably out of place. He raised an eyebrow as a sign for James to explain his anxiousness.

“No! Please don’t open the door. Let me do it!” With that, he flew out of his own door and ran over to Regulus’s side. He opened the door with a deep bow and made room for Regulus to step out. It was a gesture Regulus appreciated but didn’t dare acknowledge. Regulus cautiously stepped out of the car with his chin held high. Honestly, it was absurd! He had agreed to go, so playing the posh card was pointless. No matter how much Regulus hated it, he couldn’t claim that he despised being there. He enjoyed James’s company more than he should have, so why couldn’t he just relax? Perhaps because he had always been second to this man his entire life. Sirius would always choose James first. In every universe, they were made for each other, and Regulus was just another obstacle they encountered along the way. Regulus was just a side character.

But Regulus wanted to be a winner, and that meant he was willing to cheat.

Regulus looked up at a smiling James. It was as if he had won the lottery; an exaggeratedly large smile was glued to his face. Regulus wanted to win. So he did something unexpected: he smiled back. It had exactly the effect Regulus had hoped for; James’ smile faltered. He was surprised, and it was obvious. James just stood there, staring at Regulus, without blinking, without speaking. Perhaps it hadn’t been the right thing to do, as Regulus began to feel uncomfortable. The way James’ pupils had dilated and his lips were slightly parted made Regulus’ mind go blank, which he didn’t like at all!

“Should we go to the museum, or have you changed your plans?” This seemed to bring James out of his trance, as he shook his head and smiled.

“Yeah,” he placed a hand on the narrow part of Regulus’ back and applied gentle pressure to indicate they should go. “This way.” He led Regulus towards a pedestrian crossing. Regulus didn’t shy away from James’ touch. If he were to be honest with himself, he leaned more or less into it.

James was in bloody heaven. H. E. A. V. E. N. Regulus had agreed to go to the museum, and James took it as a date, even though Regulus absolutely, in no way, saw it that way. Regardless, James was just happy to be there with him. They walked through the museum's grand entrance, the polished marble floor reflecting the towering columns and fine sculptures. James couldn’t help but steal glances at Regulus, who, unsurprisingly, seemed very absorbed in the art. There was something peaceful about his face; a quiet glow burning in his gaze. Regulus moved with the kind of calm and confidence that James had always admired. He thought it a bit unfair how effortlessly Regulus seemed to look so… well, perfect. His sharp jawline, the way his dark hair fell in perfect waves, and the intense eyes that swept over each exhibit as if he was contemplating something far deeper than what was in front of him. Regulus loved art; it was clear from the way he observed it. His eyes were analytical, and he clearly judged the paintings he didn’t like. James had no doubt that Regulus would stop when he came to the paintings he did like. They moved on through the first hall, where the walls were adorned with large, dramatic oil paintings. James cast another glance at Regulus and tried to match his calm pace. It was fascinating to see him like this, so focused and almost silent in his way of experiencing the art. For James, it was enough to be here with Regulus, but he couldn’t help but hope there was more to it. Regulus stopped in front of a painting – a dark, surreal landscape with gloomy colours and blurred forms. James didn’t know much about art, but he could recognise a certain weight in it. Regulus stood completely still for a moment, his eyes lingering on the details. James knew he shouldn’t disturb him right now, but it was hard to resist.

“Do you like it?” James asked cautiously, stepping closer. His tone was lighter, but there was genuine interest behind it. Regulus turned his head slightly, his face still facing the painting, but his gaze caught James’ for a brief moment.

“It’s… interesting,” he eventually said, his voice low and contemplative. “There’s something raw about it. Something honest. It’s not trying to be beautiful, but in a way, it is.”

James regarded the painting with new eyes. Perhaps there was something there he hadn’t seen before. But his attention quickly flickered back to Regulus, who seemed so immersed in his own world.

“You look quite beautiful yourself,” James mumbled without thinking. Regulus stiffened for a moment, and James immediately regretted his words. He could feel the colour rising in his cheeks and desperately hoped Regulus wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. But to James’ surprise, Regulus slowly turned his head towards him, his gaze sharp, but there was an almost imperceptible glimmer in his eyes.

“Is that your way of hiding your total incomprehension of art, Potter?” Regulus asked in a drier tone than usual, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

James laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just saying what I think.” Regulus shook his head slightly, but his face relaxed again.

He turned his gaze back to the painting, but something in his posture had changed. More open. More accessible.

“Maybe that’s why I agreed to this museum nonsense,” Regulus said quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. James blinked in surprise and looked at Regulus, but said nothing. For the first time that day, he felt there was a small opening – a tiny chance that Regulus could also see it as something more. The room they were standing in was filled with dark paintings, and Regulus was drawn to them all. Each one he found captivating, which made James examine them more closely.

He had never been much of an art person – not in the traditional sense, at least – but now he studied every little detail, every brushstroke. Normally, he would have barely glanced at a painting before moving on to the next one, and then the next, and then the next again. But here with Regulus, he admired all the details, and he appreciated them.

They gradually moved on and ended up in a room with Vincent Van Gogh paintings. He was one of the few artists James knew about, solely because of his mother’s fondness for the Dutch painter. She adored his art almost more than she adored her children (which should be impossible, but alas, it was not. James had been second to a bunch of sunflowers all his life).

Marlene and Sirius often painted together. Sirius was very skilled – they could spend hours doing that. When they got home, they were covered in paint and smelled faintly of fir. Marlene was absolutely dreadful, but no one dared tell her. Yes, she painted almost worse than James did at five. And then there was Sirius; he was a natural talent. He didn’t let people see his artworks, so not many were aware of it. But James had seen, and James knew. If it hadn’t been for Sirius’ passion for music and desire to create his own, James would have forced him to take the artistic route.

Regulus had stopped, his eyes opened a little wider than usual. He looked around the room, which had a total of nine paintings, and his gaze flew over them. When they finally paused from their hectic search, they stopped with their eyes fixed on one painting.

The Sunflowers.

It was a simple bouquet of sunflowers in an ordinary vase. The flowers were varied – some plump and bright, others wilted, their petals dried out. Van Gogh had painted them in warm yellows and oranges, making them seem alive. The thick brushstrokes gave it texture, as if the flowers were reaching out. Even the bright background made the colours leap out, as if the sunflowers were glowing against it. Yes, the painting was fascinating, but what captivated James most was the way

Regulus looked at it. His eyes were wide and bright, as if he were gazing at something magical. His lips were slightly parted, and his very posture screamed admiration. Regulus looked at the painting and saw something enigmatic, where others saw brushstrokes.

He just stood there, gazing enamoured at the artwork, and in that moment, James wished not to be a cat but instead a work of art created from wonder and chaos. He wanted to be seen as if he were a mystery that Reg couldn’t wait to explore. Regulus glanced over at James, but when he found him already staring, he quickly looked away, as if the sight had wounded him psychologically.

“Lucy,” James spoke with a gentleness that even surprised him. “Is this your favourite piece?”

What a lame question! But what else could James ask? It would also be strange not to say anything now that they had just made eye contact.

Regulus, who was staring at the painting with an intensity that could easily mask his genuine reaction, did not move, but James knew he had struck a chord even though he didn’t know what it was. He was only aware that perhaps he shouldn’t have struck it. He cleared his throat and tried once more to break the awkward silence.

“You know… it’s really beautiful, isn’t it?” Apparently, he couldn’t talk to picture-perfect people, full stop. He half-heartedly tried to gesture towards the painting with a hand movement, but it ended up as an awkward wave.

Regulus finally turned to him, slowly, as if weighing each moment. Their gazes met again, but this time there was something more grounded in it, something almost challenging. James was certain now; he wouldn’t want to strike anything in Regulus. Regulus was dangerous, and that was a fact James would come to know better in the not-so-distant future.

“No, it’s not my favourite, but it’s certainly one of them. And yes, it is lovely,” Regulus replied simply and quietly. Somehow, he managed to make it sound like poetry. James felt an immediate curiosity and stepped closer. What was Regulus’s favourite piece? James wanted to crack him open like a nut and look inside that overly clever and complicated brain Regulus possessed. He wanted to know and see everything; he wanted to know Regulus.

“What is your favourite piece, then?” he asked, this time with genuine interest in his voice. There was something about Regulus that always drew James in, as if there was more to discover, more beneath the surface.

Regulus hesitated, and for a moment it seemed as if he considered not answering. But then he took a deep breath and finally turned to James, his eyes dark and serious.

“It’s another painting – one that isn’t here, but a wonderful piece of work.”

Regulus looked so genuine right now; no facade was up, it was just Regulus.

“What’s the painting called? Perhaps we can see it today,” James was eager. “Or another day. We could meet and see it together again.”

Regulus looked at him, and something changed in his eyes. It was like watching a flower bloom and finally show the world its beauty; that’s what it looked like to gaze at Regulus.

“The painting is called ‘Achilles Lamenting the Death of Patroclus’, but we can’t see it today or any other day. It hangs in Scotland.”

James’s curiosity was still not sated; it likely never would be when it came to the grey-eyed man at his side. “Why is it your favourite?”

Regulus took a deep breath and maintained eye contact while fiddling with the edge of his sweater. “It feels like me. As if there’s something more out there, but it’s still so far away.” James fell silent for a moment, allowing the words to sink in. It wasn’t just a piece of art; it was a window into Regulus’s inner world. It was a window James wanted to look through. He mentally noted down the name so he could research it later.

He could feel his heart beating faster as he regarded Regulus. There was something raw and honest in what he had just said that James had never heard before. He felt as if he was on the brink of something significant – as if he had caught a glimpse of Regulus that no one else had ever seen.

“I understand,” James said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “It’s beautiful in that way. It feels like… hope. Even though it’s distant.”

Regulus looked at him, and their eyes met again, but this time it was different. There was no quick turning away, no nervous evasion. Just silence, an understanding that hung between them like something unspoken but strong.

James broke eye contact briefly to glance at the painting again. “But you don’t have to be alone in reaching it... whatever it is that feels so far away.” He spoke slowly, carefully, as if he were groping for the right words. “Maybe I’m far from perfect, but I’m here. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

Regulus didn’t reply immediately, but James could see a small shift in his face – as if something in his facade was beginning to crack, just a little. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it was enough for James to know he had broken through.

“That’s what everyone says,” Regulus finally murmured, his gaze back on the painting. “But it’s harder than it sounds.”

James nodded slowly. “I know that. But we can take it step by step. Together.”

There was a moment of silence where everything felt slow and intense, as if the two were standing in their own world, cut off from everything around them. Regulus let his shoulders drop slightly, and he looked at James again, this time with a gaze that was softer. Less guarded. He was just about to say something when they were interrupted by a blonde girl.

“Excuse me, aren’t you Regulus Black?” she asked. She looked to be no more than fifteen, with blonde hair, brown eyes, and a big smile. James glanced nervously at Regulus, who had stiffened a little, just as James had expected. James was well aware that he was afraid of being recognised because of his background. It had happened a few times with Sirius, and he had reacted in the same way – a mix of nervousness and fear. Always ready to help, James placed a hand on Regulus’s arm. A small reminder that he meant every word; he was here. Regulus’s skin was cold under James’s warm hand, but it was comforting. Like lying on a cold pillow or taking a cold bath in summer.

“So, the actor from the new Star Trek?”

Ah, that was more reassuring. Regulus evidently agreed, for he responded to the girl.

“Well spotted. Yes, that’s me.” He looked more tense now, and James had a clear idea of what was going on; he could do nothing but smile encouragingly and nod, as all the words had died somewhere in his throat. The girl began to fidget restlessly from side to side, as if she expected more than she had already received.

“Could I… can I get an autograph? I have paper and a pencil, of course.” She smiled shyly and presented the paper and pencil she had been hiding behind her back. Regulus seemed to awaken from a fog, but he took the paper and pencil with a smile. “Of course! Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” He looked at her with a smile, but James knew that this wasn’t his genuine smile.

“Um… my name is Aria.” She practically glowed with delight; it was adorable to watch.

“Well then, hello Aria, a pleasure to meet you. If I could just get James here to turn around, I can use his back as a surface to write your autograph on.”

James blinked once. And again. Goodness. He turned around so quickly that a little breeze was created. He could feel Regulus behind him, and when a hand rested on his back, James closed his eyes. The whole scene lasted no more than five seconds, but for James, it felt like several minutes, hours even. He only turned back around when he heard Regulus say goodbye to the girl. Regulus looked at him with a crooked smile, which only made James melt even more.

“Are we finished here, or would you like to see more?” James asked.

James was stubborn, more than usual at the moment. He wanted to hold onto his opinion until Regulus yielded. It would probably take a while since Regulus was also an exceedingly stubborn person. Normally, James would have just given in and gifted Regulus—or anyone else—whatever they asked for. He was always ready to sacrifice himself for others and do almost anything to please them. But that wasn’t the case this time, for Regulus insisted on declining James's offer to go out for a meal, and that he wouldn’t accept. They had been out for several hours, and now it was time to replenish the energy they had expended, and the solution was food. Besides, James now had an excuse to look directly at Regulus, so he would take it.

“I’ve said you don’t—”

“And I’ve said I’m taking you out for lunch. What’s your problem with that? Is it that you have to eat with me, or that I’m asking?” James interrupted. He knew he would win this discussion, and it wouldn’t be long before Regulus surrendered. “We’ll find a nice restaurant, get some good food, talk, and get to know each other better, and in the end, I’ll pay. Doesn’t that sound good enough?”

Regulus sighed and stamped the ground in resignation. They were standing outside James’s car, going back and forth.

“James, I don’t have a problem with it—”

“Then why are you contradicting me?”

“—but you’ve already done enough. You paid for the tickets, so you don’t need to invite me to lunch, alright?”

James cursed inwardly. If it was just about the payment, then he could probably find a solution. As long as he got to spend a meal in Regulus's company.

“Sweet Regulus, if it’s about not wanting me to pay for the food, you can just pay for your own share. Doesn’t that sound fair? I’d like you to come, so would you be sweet enough to agree? For me?”

Regulus sighed in resignation, and James knew he had won. Regulus had surrendered, which meant James could take him on a date—lunch—and enjoy the rest of the day. To spare Reg the agony of yielding, James opened the car door on Regulus’s side and gestured for him to get in. Regulus scowled but climbed in nonetheless. James went over to his own side and got in as well. The drive was very quiet; only the sound of traffic was audible. James reached out to turn on the radio, and a cheerful song greeted them. “Honey, honey, let me feel it, ah-hah, honey, honey.”

James squealed with delight. Although they were well into the song, he was perfectly aware of what the next part was. He knew the entire song by heart, forwards and backwards, asleep and awake. So when the next line came, James sang along.

“Honey, honey, don’t conceal it, ah-hah, honey, honey.”

James, who was driving, glanced over at Regulus, who had a confused expression painted across his face. He actually looked surprised, if James were to be honest. “You like ABBA?” Perhaps James had been mistaken; he wasn’t confused or surprised; he was disgusted. James was a proud man, and one thing he was especially proud of was his fondness for the Swedish band ABBA. He would go so far as to call it his lifestyle.

“Yes, ABBA is brilliant, and this is my favourite song!”

James was prepared for resistance, but he couldn’t suppress a smile as he observed Regulus’s face. His hands still rested comfortably on the steering wheel, and he drummed rhythmically with his fingers as the song continued. “You can’t say it’s not a hit,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, clearly ready to defend his taste in music.

Regulus made a face and leaned back slightly in his seat, as if he were trying to distance himself from what was currently pouring out of the car’s speakers. “I never imagined that you… of all people… would like something like this…”

James shrugged and laughed carefree. “Then I’ll just say you have no taste. That’s okay; not everyone can be so refined.”

Regulus frowned, but a small glimmer of curiosity began to peek through his sceptical facade. “Refined? ABBA? Explain to me how that works.”

James threw a quick glance back at him before turning his gaze back to the road.

“It’s simple. ABBA isn’t just pop. It’s timeless music. Their songs have everything—melody, harmony, joy, and yes, a bit of drama. It’s… it’s like a perfectly crafted cocktail. You just can’t ignore it.”

Regulus almost seemed to consider the argument for a moment, but then he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, James. It’s not really my thing.”

James laughed. “Just wait; before you know it, you’ll be singing along to ‘Dancing Queen.’”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “That’s never going to happen.”

James shook his head and turned the volume up a bit higher on the radio. “We’ll see,” he said with a cheeky smile, continuing to sing along carefree.

They approached the restaurant James had chosen for them, and James couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness at the thought of sitting opposite Regulus for such a long time. He would manage, though! James parked the car as close to the restaurant as possible and got out. The walk was pleasant, and James found himself feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. With Regulus, he didn’t need to be anyone other than himself. For when he was with Regulus, it felt as if nothing particular was expected of him, and James loved that. He loved how they could discuss whether to go out for dinner, he loved how he could voice his opinions, and he loved how he got a break from the outside world.

They gradually made their way to the restaurant, and James couldn’t help but glance at Regulus. He was beautiful—beautiful as knives and cliffs. They entered through the door and were led to a table by the window by a short-haired lady. James pulled out the chair for Regulus, who calmly sat down. Once he had settled into his own chair, he took a moment to study the room. The walls were dark red and adorned with paintings of prehistoric people. There were white tablecloths, large chandeliers, and old wooden floors. The room was bathed in a golden light that made everything look cosier.

The short-haired lady returned with two menus. She had brown eyes and a charming smile directed at Regulus. James didn’t like the way she was openly checking him out. She looked at him as if he were food and she was a hungry lioness. It wasn’t fair! Regulus deserved to be looked at as if he were art—something one could take pleasure in observing but never needed to touch. He deserved for someone to see him and not just his appearance. Someone who saw his dark sides, quirky interests, and soft edges; this lady was anything but that. She placed the menus on the table and lingered for a moment.

“If you need anything else, just let me know. I offer just about everything,” she said, her gaze fixed on Regulus. Not once had she looked in James’s direction.

“We're fine, thanks!” James heard the discomfort in his own tone at her words. It was evident, but he chose to ignore the fact. Regulus looked at him quizzically before picking up the menu and starting to read. James simply watched him; the way he furrowed his brow in concentration, his curls falling into his forehead, how he spun the ring on his finger around, and how he slightly pouted his lips. Regulus looked up.

“What?”

James blinked. “Nothing.”

He picked up the other menu and began to look through it, but he was far too distracted by watching Regulus over the edge of his menu to actually read anything. Regulus had a fine little crease between his eyebrows, and James had to restrain himself from reaching out to smooth it out. He wanted to let his fingers trace every feature of Regulus's face and learn every contour, every bump. He wanted to know Regulus like he knew the strings of his guitar and the weight of a microphone. He didn’t know how long he had been watching Regulus; it could have been 2 minutes or 30—James wouldn’t have known. But when the short-haired lady returned, it dawned on him that it must have been a long time.

“Are you ready to order?” She smiled dramatically, looking once again in Regulus’s direction. Regulus nodded and spoke up. “Yes, I’ll have the number 17: Danish squid with new potato purée, green tomato, sea purslane, and bouillon.” He looked over at James to signal that he was finished now.

“I’ll have the same. Do you prefer red or white wine, love?” James didn’t know why he used the term “love,” but probably because that lady gave him the creeps. He also didn’t know why he had asked, as he knew Regulus preferred red wine.

“Red wine. We’d also like to order a bottle of red wine.”

The lady nodded and disappeared again with the menus. Regulus looked James straight in the eye.

“Why the hell did you say that?” he hissed.

“Didn’t you see how she looked at you? She looked at you as if she wanted to eat you raw, which she probably would! I panicked!” James’s explanation was lame—so fucking lame. He had no proper excuse, but he also didn’t feel like he needed to explain himself further, though Lucy apparently disagreed.

“And what does it matter to you?”

“I don’t know, okay? I just didn’t like her, and I know you didn’t like her either! Besides, you deserve far better than some hag who doesn’t know what’s appropriate and what isn’t.”

Regulus fell silent. He just sat there staring at James with those eyes that he found so hard to decipher. Grey puddles and frozen lakes. But then he smiled a big smile just for James. James stared back at Regulus, caught in the moment. The big smile lighting up Regulus's face melted something inside him. Maybe he had overreacted, but it wasn’t easy to be in the same room as Regulus and keep his feelings in check, especially when there were others showing interest in him. It annoyed him that it mattered so much.

Regulus leaned back a little in his chair and let his hand rest on the table, the ring on his finger still slowly rotating. “So you thought it was appropriate to call me ‘love’ in front of her? Why not just smack her in the face with a menu next time?”

James felt the heat rise in his cheeks, and he knew he couldn’t squirm his way out of this one. “Okay, yes, that was stupid. I don’t know what came over me. I just couldn’t stand the way she looked at you.”

“Like she wanted to eat me?” Regulus’s smile was now teasing, and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Exactly! It was disgusting!” James couldn’t help but laugh weakly, despite his awkwardness.

Regulus shook his head and sighed lightly, but there was no serious anger in his gaze anymore. Instead, his eyes drifted from James to the window. “I’m not someone who needs protecting, James,” he said quietly. “I can handle people like her.”

James leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table. “I know that. I know you can take care of yourself. It’s just... it’s hard to watch. I hate the thought of anyone only seeing you on the surface when there’s so much more.”

Regulus slowly looked back at him, the teasing tone gone, replaced by something more serious. “So much more?”

James hesitated for a moment but knew he was already deep enough into the conversation to not back down now. He took a deep breath. “Yes. You’re not just... good-looking, you know. There’s more. You’re deep, intelligent, fascinating. I mean, people just see the outer facade, and they don’t understand everything that lies behind it.”

Regulus regarded him in silence, and James suddenly felt the room grow warmer. “And you understand it all?” Regulus asked, his voice low and probing.

James swallowed. “I’m trying at least. I want to understand.”

Regulus sat quietly for a moment before saying something that surprised James. “Maybe I’ve just been waiting for someone to actually try.” His eyes were still fixed directly on James’s, intense and almost exposed. It was as if he was allowing James to see a part of him that he usually kept hidden.

Before James could respond, the short-haired waitress returned, this time with their wine. James could feel Regulus’s gaze still resting on him as she poured into their glasses. She didn’t seem to notice any of the tension between them, or perhaps she did, but chose not to comment on it. When she left, the two sat in silence for a moment.

James picked up his glass and took a slow sip, hoping it would soothe the warmth he felt in his throat and chest. He found it hard to think clearly, but he knew something had shifted between them. Something that had always been beneath the surface was now brought to the fore and could no longer be ignored.

Regulus lifted his glass towards James. “Shall we toast?”

James reached out and clinked his glass against Regulus’s. “To what?” he asked with a crooked smile.

“I don’t know yet,” Regulus said with a twinkle in his eye. “Perhaps to understanding each other a little better.”

James smiled back, still nervous, but oddly calm in his company. “Was that an invitation to get to know you better? I’ll take it that way, so okay, I have at least 100 questions for you. Where do I start?”

Regulus chuckled and took a sip of his wine. He fit in so well here; in a fancy restaurant with fine food. “Start with the easy questions, please.”

James thought carefully. He wanted to know so many different things, and he didn’t know where to begin. Regulus had said easy, so that’s what he would try.

“What change would you like to see in the world?” James asked eagerly, and Reg laughed again. “I said easy! That was not an easy question.”

James didn’t have to think long before he had an easier, yet not boring question. “What music do you listen to?”

“Classical.”

James nodded slowly. That actually made quite a bit of sense when he thought about it

“Do you play music then?”

“Yes, I play the piano, and I’ve been doing it since I was four,” James was lost for words. Could this man be any more attractive? “I also compose my own music.” Yes, he certainly could. Regulus played and composed music! James didn’t know what to say, but he realised that his silence was starting to stretch on too long.

"Wow, that's wonderful! We should do something together one day." He flashed a crooked smile at Regulus, still trying to take in the new information. He composed music? Of course he did!

"Next question!" Regulus ordered.

James massaged his temples in a thoughtful gesture, even though he already knew what to ask. He had so many questions and wanted to fire them all off at once—

"What's your favourite place to take a nap?"

"The floor."

"How often do you dance?"

"Never."

"Which workers have the worst job?"

"Nursery teachers."

"Favourite scent?"

"Cinnamon."

"Food?"

"Snails."

"Favourite flower?"

"Su—you're absolutely not getting that out of me!" Regulus glared across the table. James couldn't help but laugh. That glare was so adorable, filling every corner of his heart.

"Why won't you say it? I'll figure it out anyway. Whether I get it out of you, or I have to bring you different flowers every time we hang out, that's up to you."

Regulus glared even harder, leaning over the table toward James.

"Oh, is that what you think? I can tell you right now that—"

"Dinner's ready." Regulus was cut off by a short-haired woman who entered with two delicious-smelling plates. Regulus leaned back as she placed one plate in front of him and the other in front of James. She stood beside the table, looking expectantly at Regulus. He said nothing. With a small sigh, she left, and James couldn't help but laugh. Regulus had just brushed her off, which meant he wasn’t interested in her. James picked up his cutlery and began cutting into a potato. He had never been that keen on squid. It was a bit rubbery, and the taste was something he'd never quite gotten used to. He couldn’t understand why Regulus appreciated it. With his French background, it made sense that he was used to eating odd things—snails, frog legs, and yes, squid.

"So," James said after the silence had stretched on for a bit too long. He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "The favourite flower. I’m serious. I’ll figure it out, sooner or later."

Regulus slowly looked up from his plate, his eyes glinting with both irritation and amusement. "Are you seriously bringing up flowers right now? In the middle of dinner?"

James laughed and nodded. "Yeah, why not? Flowers are interesting! They say a lot about a person."

Regulus rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food, but James could see he wasn’t planning to answer immediately. Instead, he took his time, chewing slowly, as if weighing his next move.

"Alright, let’s say I give you my answer," Regulus finally said, his voice low and almost secretive. "What are you going to do with that information? Buy me flowers all the time?"

James blinked dramatically, pretending to think deeply about the question. "Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just use it against you every time I need to make you smile."

Regulus snorted and shook his head, but there was a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You’re an idiot."

James laughed again and shrugged. "Maybe, but I’m your idiot."

There was a brief silence where Regulus just looked at him. "I don’t have a favourite flower," he said suddenly, but James could hear the doubt in his voice.

"I don’t believe you," James said. "Everyone has a favourite flower, even if they won’t admit it. But fine, I’ll figure it out. You won’t be able to hide it forever."

Regulus simply gave him a sceptical look but dropped the subject. Instead, he took a sip of his wine, as if he had won the battle—but James knew better. He had all the time in the world to crack Regulus’ shell. "Wait and see," he muttered to himself with a satisfied smile.

They continued eating in silence until someone cleared their throat. Regulus and James looked up in sync to find a dark-haired boy standing beside their table. His dark curls fell into his forest-green eyes. He must have been around 17.

"Excuse me, you're Regulus Black, right?" the boy asked.

Regulus nodded slowly, putting his cutlery down. "Yes?"

The boy’s face lit up like a thousand stars in the night sky. "Hi, I just wanted to say that your acting in Star Trek was absolutely incredible! I do theatre myself, and seeing such talented people means a lot to me."

James felt a warmth spread through his chest. This boy had said exactly the right thing, whether he knew it or not. Regulus needed to hear that his work meant something to people, especially after being abandoned by his brother. James smiled at the boy but let Regulus take the lead.

"Thank you, I do what I can. Can I help with something?"

The boy smiled shyly but then pulled a small camera out of his bag. "Could I get a picture?"

Regulus nodded and stood up. "Sure! Um, should I stand next to you?"

The boy nodded eagerly, too flustered to form words.

"Should I take the picture?" James offered as he stood up as well. They didn’t need to answer; there was no other way it could work. He took the camera from the boy, waited until they’d moved closer together, and then snapped the photo. "Thanks so much, both of you," the boy turned to James. "Are you an actor too?"

James laughed. "No, I can’t boast about that. My name’s James Potter, I’m the lead singer in a band."

The boy’s eyes widened with surprise. "Really? That’s so cool! What band?"

James suddenly became very aware that he might have a new fan on his hands. He just had to sell it well enough.

"The band’s called Letters From London. We’re playing a gig in mid-September at The Silver Serpent, a little pub hidden away in an alley here in London. It’s free—you should come!"

The boy looked like he was on cloud nine. "Oh, I’ll definitely be there." He smiled one last time before thanking them for the photo and leaving them to their meal. They sat back down and carried on as before. It wasn’t anything major, but it still meant something to him. He kept eating, his thoughts lingering on the dark-haired boy.

“You’re famous, aren’t you? That’s the second person who recognised you, that’s big,” Regulus grunted in response, and James continued talking. “Imagine the effect you’d have on our band! If you were seen with us, people would come running in droves to our gigs!” James kept rambling without much thought, something he would regret later. They finished their meal and paid (James insisted on paying, much to Regulus’ dismay). They left the restaurant and found James’ car.

James slid into the driver’s seat, and Regulus got in on the passenger side. It was much later than James had expected, but the time had flown by. They had been together since noon, dragging the day out.

They drove through the quiet streets, the darkness outside casting a soft glow into the car from the streetlights. Music played softly in the background, and they sat in a comfortable silence. There was no need for words at that moment. James could still feel the atmosphere from dinner, the glances they had exchanged, and the unspoken understanding between them.

When they arrived at Regulus’ house, James stopped the car and turned to him with a light smile. "Here we are."

Regulus looked out the window at his building, then back at James. "Thanks for today. It was... nice." His voice was calm, but there was a hint of something more beneath the surface. Something that made James a little nervous—but in a good way.

James took a deep breath and reached for the car keys but hesitated for a moment. He had had a great day, but there was something he had forgotten in the midst of it all. "Oh," he said suddenly, and Regulus looked at him curiously. "I should get going. The others are all gathered at Remus’ place, and I promised I’d drop by."

Regulus raised an eyebrow as if he’d just realised that James had spent the whole day with him while his friends were waiting elsewhere. "So, you’re heading off?"

"Yeah," James said, unable to stop smiling a little. "But... we’ll see each other again, right?"

Regulus looked at him for a moment as if he were considering something. There was always that mysterious distance in his gaze, but right now, it was almost gone. "Yes, we will," he replied with a small nod.

James nodded back, though something in him wanted to stay a little longer. Still, he turned the key and started the car again, knowing the evening with his friends was waiting. But as he drove away from Regulus' building, he couldn’t help but think about how different this day had been. How something had changed between them. And how he was already looking forward to the next time they’d meet.

Regulus closed the door behind him. The house was dark, so Barty and Evan must have gone home, which meant Pandora had finished her dress and called them back. He kicked off his shoes and made his way to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and was reminded that Barty had gone shopping. A large watermelon and a frozen pizza sat alone in the fridge, bathed in the cold light. He pulled the watermelon out and grabbed a cutting board. The day had been different than he’d expected. James had been different. Regulus had hoped to find something about him that would put him off, but instead, he’d only fallen even harder. James was a wonderful person, someone who would do anything for anyone. James had felt uncomfortable around their maid because she had seen Regulus but not seen him. James wasn’t upset because someone else had looked at him, but because she had done it in the wrong way — it had never happened before. Regulus had nearly melted into the floor when he realised this. Quite literally! He’d gripped the edges of his chair so tightly it had left marks on his pale skin. James. His brown eyes turned into rivers of honey whenever the sun hit them, his tanned skin glowed like gold, the two freckles under his left eye, the messy hair that always looked like a haystack, and his kind words. Regulus couldn’t help but sigh at the thought of James and his being. He was like a god, and Regulus was the worshipper at the altar. He was lost. Completely. And. Utterly. Lost.

Regulus started slicing the watermelon, still lost in thoughts of James. He’d brought flowers, something Regulus had never received before. They were roses, true, but better than nothing. He didn’t plan on telling James what his favourite flower was because he actually enjoyed it. He enjoyed seeing James try, and it became a little game. Could James guess his favourite flower? Regulus had made it a bit too obvious today, but he hoped James hadn’t noticed. After cutting a few slices, he wrapped the rest of the watermelon in cling film and put it back in the fridge. With the fresh slices in hand, he went to the living room and sat on the floor. They had met a few fans, but not as many as Regulus usually ran into when out. It was one of the reasons he stayed home so much — he hated being recognised. He loved acting, the way it allowed him to forget himself as he surrendered to a new character, but he hated how it had made him famous. James, on the other hand, had handled it really well, though that wasn’t surprising. He always seemed to light up when talking to people, and Regulus envied that ability. The ability to find joy in the attention of others. He had spoken to the boy as if they’d known each other all their lives, effortlessly and animatedly. He always knew exactly what to say. Regulus replayed the scene in his mind.

They were sitting and eating quietly together. There was no need for words because they understood each other silently. Or at least, that’s how it felt to Regulus. Someone cleared their throat. Regulus and James looked up in unison, and there stood a dark-haired boy next to their table. His dark curls framed forest green eyes. He looked young.

“Excuse me, you wouldn’t happen to be Regulus Black?” he asked.

Regulus nodded slowly, placing his cutlery down. “Yes?”

The boy looked relieved, and his eyes lit up. “Hi, I just wanted to say your acting in Star Trek was absolutely incredible! I do theatre myself, and seeing such talented people means a lot to me.”

Regulus felt a warmth towards the boy. It was nice to hear that kind of praise after working hard on a film, knowing the audience appreciated it. Regulus saw James smile at the boy but stayed quiet, allowing him to take the lead in the conversation.

“Thank you, I do what I can. Is there anything I can help with?”

The boy smiled shyly before pulling a camera from his bag. “Can I get a picture?”

Regulus nodded and stood up. Normally, he didn’t like doing that sort of thing, but right now, it was okay. “Sure! Um, should I stand next to you?”

The boy looked embarrassed and nodded instead of forming words.

“Shall I take the picture?” James asked, standing up as well. Neither Regulus nor the boy responded, but they didn’t need to; James knew what to do. The boy handed him the camera, and James took it. He crouched slightly and snapped a picture. “Thank you both so much,” the boy turned to James. “Are you an actor too?”

James laughed. “No, I can’t claim that. I’m James Potter, lead singer in a band.”

The boy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? That’s so cool! What’s the band called?”

Regulus loved hearing James talk about his passions, so he watched silently. His eyes lit up in a particular way, and Regulus admired it.

“The band’s called Letters From London. We’re playing a gig in mid-September at The Silver Serpent, a little pub hidden away in an alley here in London. It’s free, you should come!”

The boy, already overwhelmed with joy, looked even happier. “I’ll be there.” He smiled once more, thanked them for the picture, and left them to their meal. They sat down again and continued eating.

“You’re famous, aren’t you? That’s the second person who recognised you, that’s big,” Regulus grunted in response, and James continued talking. “Imagine the effect you’d have on our band! If you were seen with us, people would come running in droves to our gigs!”

Regulus froze. What had James just said?

“You’re famous, aren’t you? That’s the second person who recognised you, that’s big. Imagine the effect you’d have on our band! If you were seen with us, people would come running in droves to our gigs!”

Shit!

How could he have been so foolish? Regulus had been the biggest idiot, letting his fondness for James cloud his judgement. He had believed every word that had come out of James’ pretty mouth, but now it had hit him. James had been sly, and now Regulus had caught him. Of course, James had no real interest in Regulus — only the fame that came with him. James was after his celebrity. It all made so much sense, and Regulus felt like a fool! What could Regulus possibly offer James besides fame? Absolutely nothing! Sirius had probably put the idea in James’ head, coaxing Regulus into attending their gigs. He’d probably told James how it could only be him, because of Regulus’ fondness for him. Regulus had always loved hearing Sirius’ stories about James and had practically begged for more. He had been a gullible idiot, and now he was paying the price for it. James had no interest in talking to Regulus, and that fact hurt. But what stung the most was the thought that James had intended to use him. He would have played nice until their band was the biggest of the big, and Regulus would have never meant anything to him.

Sirius’ little brother. That’s all Regulus was to James. A little baby who couldn’t think for himself. But he should’ve known better; Regulus had seen through him, and he wouldn’t fall for James’ crap any longer. It was over with Potter. Absolutely over!

James didn’t want to be here. All of his friends were crammed into Remus and Peter’s tiny flat, and it was hard to find space for anything. He used to love this sort of thing, and he supposed he still did, but right now, he’d rather be with Regulus. He’d rather do something quiet, something that didn’t involve loads of alcohol and loud music. Marlene had brought Dorcas along, and she was actually really fun. In many ways, she reminded him of Regulus, but she was more outgoing and easy to talk to. James had had a particularly fascinating conversation with her about snakes. She was apparently a big fan and knew an incredible amount about the Kingsnake. Not only that, but she found it so fascinating that it inspired many of the jewellery pieces she made. Today, she was wearing a necklace that depicted a snake coiling around her neck. She was an interesting character.

James wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. On the sofa, Sirius, Peter, and Mary seemed to be having a heated discussion, as Sirius was gesticulating wildly. Marlene and Dorcas were kissing in a corner, and Remus and Lily were talking in the kitchen. James decided it was safest to interrupt their conversation. He took long strides towards them.

“Hey, lads,” he waved both hands. “Mind if I join your chat?”

The pair nodded, adjusting their stance to include James in the group.

“So, James, what have you been up to today?” Lily asked, handing him a beer. It was cold against his always warm fingers, reminding him of Regulus’ cool skin. He looked down at her with a smile. “I went to a museum.” He cracked open the beer with one hand while scratching his neck with the other. He hoped they’d let it go because he really didn’t have the energy to lie. Plus, he wasn’t good at it.

“Oh, were there any beautiful paintings?” Lily looked politely interested.

“Yeah, I saw Van Gogh’s Sunflowers. They’re really fascinating, I got quite absorbed.”

Lily smiled at him, but then turned back to her conversation with Remus. James half-heartedly tried to join in, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Regulus. All he wanted was to go home to him and leave his friends to themselves. He was tired, and being with Regulus was always relaxing. James sat on the kitchen counter, pulling his knees up to his chin. He was utterly exhausted, and a party wasn’t helping. Lily and Remus had gone quiet, now standing and looking at him. He attempted a reassuring smile, but once again, the gesture felt weak.

“James, are you alright?” Remus looked particularly concerned, his brows furrowed. He frowned in the same way Regulus did.

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” James said, hopping down from the counter. “I think I’ll head home. Maybe I’ll come back later.” He doubted that, but he knew it would ease Remus' mind. As he left the kitchen, Remus patted him on the shoulder in his usual way of saying ‘get better soon.’ It took him a moment to put on his Converse, but once he did, everything seemed to move quickly. One moment, he was in a hallway, and the next, he was sitting in his car, driving toward Regulus’ house. It wasn’t dark yet, but it was already around six in the evening. James lightly tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove through the quiet streets. When he turned onto Regulus' road, it felt as though the world became a little quieter, a little more focused. He took a deep breath and parked in front of the house.

James sat there for a moment, staring at the front door, wondering what he would say. He was exhausted, but it wasn’t just physical. Something inside him needed to see Regulus—to be close to him, even if only for a short time.

With one final heavy exhale, he stepped out of the car and walked toward the door. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he hoped that just being with Regulus would bring him the peace he couldn’t seem to find anywhere else.

He knocked on the door and took two steps back. Quick footsteps sounded on the other side, followed by the clicking of locks being undone. The door opened.

“Dorcas, I didn’t think you were coming…” Regulus’ words died on his lips when he saw James. Something in his eyes hardened, and his face closed off. A cold mask replaced the warmth that had been there earlier. James didn’t understand. They had spent the whole day together and had such a nice time. What had changed? Something must have because this wasn’t the Regulus he had left just a few hours ago.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Regulus’ voice was like a bucket of cold water to the face.

James' eyes widened behind his glasses. What did he mean?

“Regulus, are you okay?”

James was truly confused. Something had upset Regulus, and James had no idea what. He had no clue, but he desperately wanted to help. He wanted to be there for Regulus and make things right. If Reg needed a shoulder to cry on, it would be James’. If he needed someone to listen, that would be James too.

“I need you to leave,” Regulus hissed.

“No,” said James. “Something has clearly upset you. Let me help.”

“I don’t want your help!” Regulus nearly shouted.

James couldn’t take it anymore. The thought of anyone hurting Regulus made him want to crawl into a hole and let the worms eat him. It pained him to see Reg like this, and he didn’t know what to do.

“I don’t need to know what happened to help you work it out of your system. So,” he stepped forward and spread his arms wide, “hit me.”

“What?”

“Hit me.”

Regulus didn’t hesitate a second longer before his fist landed squarely against James’ chest. He punched again, but James barely flinched, only grunting slightly and nodding to let Reg know he was still fine. Regulus did it again. And again. Until he grew tired and slumped against James. The moment James wrapped his arms around him, Regulus pushed him away.

“You need to get out of here right now,” Regulus said through gritted teeth.

“Regulus, are you angry with me?”

“Yes,” Regulus spat, and James was taken aback by how much the words stung. What was going on? Why was Regulus so angry? He couldn’t understand what he had done wrong. But before he could say anything, Regulus continued, “Now get out and leave me alone.”

James felt the shock ripple through his entire body. What on earth was this about? He couldn’t make sense of it, and his face showed it all—confusion, hurt, and a growing panic that he had done something wrong without even realising it. It was all swirling in his head, but he didn’t know where to start.

“What did I do?” he finally asked, a note of desperation in his voice that he couldn’t hide.

“Get the hell out of here, Potter!” Regulus’ voice was sharp, and James could almost see him losing his grip on self-control. But why? What was he so angry about? James hadn’t done anything—at least nothing he could think of. The whole situation felt like navigating in total darkness.

James hesitated, trying to find a way out of this. But he refused to let it go. Not this time. Something important was at stake here, and he could feel that if he didn’t figure it out now, it would never be resolved. He straightened up and met Regulus’ gaze.

“No.”

Regulus frowned. “No?”

“No, I’m not leaving until you tell me why you’re mad at me.” He could feel the muscles in his jaw tightening. “This isn’t fair, and I won’t put up with it.”

Something was wrong. Something big. James could feel it. The last time they had seen each other, everything had been fine—or at least as fine as it could be between them—and now Regulus seemed like he was on the verge of exploding. Why? James needed an answer.

“Stop being so bloody rude and let’s have this conversation like adults,” James pressed, frustration rising. “Or are you only mad at things that can’t hit back?”

Regulus reacted immediately. “Oh, you did not just say that!”

“Oh, yes, I bloody well did!” James yelled back, his patience completely gone. Why was Regulus so angry? Why couldn’t he just say what was wrong?

And then, all of a sudden, it hit James. He could see it in Regulus’ eyes. The way he looked at him, as if there was something deeper, something unspoken. But what was it? James could feel his own anger boiling up, but it was mixed with something else—something that felt wrong. Regulus wasn’t just angry—there was more to it. Something he was hiding.

“Why are you mad at me, Black?”

Regulus’ face shifted. “Oh, so it’s Black now, is it?”

James shook his head, frustration spilling over. “What the hell is your problem!?”

And then… Regulus exploded. Not with words, as James had expected, but with something far worse.

“My problem is that you’ve been using me! You and your stupid face, showing up here like you don’t have some hidden agenda to convert me! That’s my problem!”

James blinked. What on earth? Using him? He felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. This was about using him? How? Why? James had no idea what to say or do.

Regulus' anger was real, but it also felt misplaced. James couldn’t believe this was true. But what did it mean?

"How have I used you?" James asked softly. He didn’t want to risk making Regulus even angrier than he already was, but he needed answers.

"Earlier today you said this: Imagine the effect you’d have on our band! If you were seen with us, people would come flocking to our concerts! You don’t actually care about spending time with me, do you? All you care about is fame, and I won’t give you any of it!" Regulus shouted, the words sharp like ice.

James was speechless. He didn’t know what to say to convince Regulus that he hadn’t used him. He shook his head.

“Reg—”

"Don't call me by any nicknames anymore. I never want to see you again! So pack your stupid face and get out of my house!"

Regulus tried to slam the door, but James wedged his foot in the gap. He was determined to get through this, even if it meant being a bit forceful.

“Now listen here, Regulus! You’re going to shut up and listen. I haven’t manipulated or used you. Do you really think I’d spend all this time trying to understand you if you were just a stepping stone to success? I could be anywhere right now, but I’m here—not because I want something from you, but because I want you. I’m still fighting because I care.”

James exhaled. He was angry, yes, but nothing could stop him from softening a little when he saw Regulus’ reaction. Regulus was quiet. Completely still. He seemed to be processing James' words, slowly coming to terms with the idea that James wasn’t some selfish jerk. He glanced up, meeting James' gaze, which was steady and piercing. Regulus studied James’ face, and James could feel a familiar warmth spreading through his body.

It was welcomed. James took a step forward and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Regulus’ ear. It seemed as if Regulus leaned into the touch, but that could have easily been wishful thinking. He blinked and looked twice more.

“You… what? God, had James really been that unclear about his intentions?”

James couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “Reg, how on earth did you get that idea?”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Okay, look at it from my perspective: James Potter, best friend of the brother I haven’t spoken to in years, suddenly shows up and wants to spend time with me. Doesn’t that sound just a little bit strange? Am I not allowed to wonder?”

Yeah, okay, that was fair enough. James had practically appeared out of the blue, and Regulus, of all people, wasn’t exactly reliable when it came to trusting others. Still, something about it tugged deep inside James. The idea that Regulus believed the only reason James would want to hang out with him was to get something from him. It wasn’t that James felt hurt by Regulus’ assumption; it was more the fact that Regulus didn’t think he was a good enough reason for anyone to want to be around him. James didn’t like that thought, and maybe that’s why he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Regulus. He wouldn’t exactly call it a hug, because Regulus stood still as a marble statue, but it was the closest they had ever been.

Regulus stiffened in James’ embrace, as though he didn’t know how to react. There was something almost tragic in the way he breathed—short, controlled breaths as if trying to hold back a storm. James could feel it—the unrest beneath the surface, the battle within Regulus’ body. Still, he didn’t move, and even though Regulus didn’t return the hug, he didn’t pull away either. It was a fragile moment, one that James was careful not to break.

“I’m not using you,” James whispered softly, close to Regulus’ ear. “I’m here for you. Because I want to be.”

Regulus’ shoulders lowered slightly, his rigid stance softening just a bit. But his voice remained low and hesitant, as though he still didn’t fully believe what James was saying.

“That… that’s hard to believe,” Regulus mumbled. “I’m not Sirius. I’m not the one people seek out for fun or friendship.”

James pulled back slightly and looked directly into Regulus’ eyes, his gaze serious but gentle. “You’re not Sirius. And that’s not what I’m interested in. I have one Sirius, I don’t need another.”

Regulus’ gaze flickered briefly, as if searching for something—maybe a sign that James was lying. But there was nothing to find. Only honesty. Perhaps that was what made it all so frightening. Regulus had always protected himself from that kind of vulnerability, that kind of authenticity. It was dangerous to trust people, dangerous to let anyone get that close. But right now, James stood there offering him something he hadn’t even known he’d been longing for.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Regulus admitted quietly, almost as if ashamed. “How to trust someone.”

James’ face softened into a small smile, one that was both kind and understanding. “You don’t need to know that right now. We can take it one step at a time.”

Regulus shook his head slightly, but moments later, he relaxed a bit more into James’ hold, as though, for the first time, allowing himself to lean into someone, even if just a little. “You’re insane, Potter,” he whispered, but there was no bitterness in the words. Only exhaustion. An exhaustion that came from fighting against feelings he wasn’t sure he even wanted. But they were there, growing between them like an unspoken agreement.

“Maybe,” James replied with a crooked smile, “but at least I’m crazy enough to stick around.”

And for the first time in what felt like ages, a small, almost imperceptible part of the cold mask Regulus wore slipped away. Just for a brief moment. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough for James to know he had a chance. They had a chance.

Mary POV:

Mary laughed. She’d had a little too much to drink, and no matter what was said, she found it alarmingly funny. She gathered the deck of cards on the table and carefully began shuffling them again. Lily had suggested they all play cards, but now only Marlene, Dorcas, Lily, and Mary remained. As for the boys, well, they had no idea where they were. Over the past month, they had all grown quite close to Dorcas, Marlene’s new girlfriend. She was a fun girl, and despite their many differences, they got along well.

“Okay, this time you deal, Dorcas. We all know Marlene cheats, and I trust you to keep her in line!” said Mary, and the others burst out laughing. She handed out the cards and gave Dorcas the leftover ones.

Dorcas smiled slyly and shook her head as she picked up the cards. "I’ll keep an eye on her," she said, winking at Marlene, who immediately put on an innocent expression.

"Hey, I don’t cheat! I’m just… strategic," Marlene defended herself with a laugh, leaning back in her chair. Lily shook her head, taking a sip of her drink, still smiling.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so strategic that the rest of us can barely keep up,” Lily said, rolling her eyes, though it was clear she didn’t mean it. There was a light atmosphere around the table—like the laughter and friendship rose above any competition between them.

“That’s fine,” said Dorcas, carefully sorting her cards. “I know exactly how to handle her.” She threw a loving glance at Marlene.

“Oh, do you now?” teased Marlene, giving Dorcas a gentle nudge on the arm.

“I have my methods,” Dorcas replied, raising an eyebrow with a secretive smile.

Mary interrupted with an exaggerated sigh. “You two are too cute! It’s almost unbearable. Can’t you be just a little less perfect for a second?” She leaned towards Lily, pretending she couldn’t handle the sight of their affection.

Lily laughed and gave Mary a light push. “Yeah, it’s really tough being around people who actually know how to be in a relationship.”

Mary burst out laughing, fiddling with her cards. “Exactly! Here we are, two single girls who haven’t had any luck in love. Honestly, show a little sympathy!”

Normally, Mary was a very observant person, but the alcohol must have dulled her senses because she completely missed the hopeless look Lily shot in her direction. Halfway through the game, James walked in through the door. He’d disappeared earlier, but now he was apparently back.

Mary elbowed Lily and pointed at James, who was standing in the doorway looking a bit more sluggish than usual. He’d been gone for half an hour without explanation, and she couldn’t help but wonder where he’d been. But the alcohol in her system quickly pushed those thoughts aside, and instead, she called over to him:

“Hey James! Come join us. We need someone to lose as much as I do!” She giggled and waved him over to the table.

James nodded tiredly, as though he’d only just registered what she was saying, and slouched over to them. He dropped heavily into the chair next to Mary and looked at the cards, as if they required far too much energy to comprehend at the moment.

“Are you okay?” Lily asked cautiously, her eyes scanning his face.

James shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Mary could tell something wasn’t quite right, but before she could ask about it, she handed him the cards.

“Here, join the chaos. We’re just trying to figure out if Marlene’s really cheating or just being ‘strategic,’ as she claims,” Mary said with a grin, and James took the cards without protest.

They continued playing, but James didn’t say much. He played his cards but seemed distant, as if his mind was somewhere else entirely. Every time one of the girls laughed or made a comment, he only gave a half-hearted smile.

As the round was nearing its end, James suddenly laid his head down on his arms on the table, as if he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. The girls stared at him in silence for a moment before starting to giggle.

“Do you think we’ve worn him out?” Marlene asked, half-joking, sending a crooked smile at the others.

“Well, he does seem like we’ve tired him out quite a bit,” said Lily, reaching for a fresh set of cards. “But he really does look like he needs a nap.”

Mary chuckled and lightly tapped the table, careful not to wake him. “It must be this game that’s worn him out. Or maybe it’s all your sharp remarks, Lily!”

They played for a few more minutes, and it seemed like James had completely fallen asleep. But suddenly, in the middle of a conversation about the next move, he mumbled something. At first, it was an indistinct murmur, but then he said something loud enough for them all to hear:

“Regulus... yeah, yeah!”

Mary stared at him wide-eyed, feeling Lily stiffen beside her. Marlene and Dorcas exchanged surprised glances. For a moment, the room was dead silent before they all broke into quiet giggles, which quickly escalated into uncontrollable laughter. They couldn’t hold it in.

Lily clapped her hands over her mouth, trying to muffle her laughter, while Mary was nearly falling out of her chair. Marlene was already doubled over the table in fits of laughter, while Dorcas sat back with a knowing smile, clearly aware of what was happening but saying nothing.

James slowly lifted his head, still groggy and disoriented, blinking several times to clear his blurry vision. The girls around the table were desperately trying to suppress their laughter, but it was hopeless. Laughter bubbled up again, and Marlene was close to toppling off her chair.

“What… what are you all laughing at?” James asked, confused, his voice hoarse from being woken up in the middle of deep sleep. His eyes darted around at them, as he rubbed his tired eyes.

Mary glanced quickly at Lily, who was hiding her face behind her hands to stifle her giggles. She could barely contain it. Marlene shot her a mischievous look, while Dorcas sat there with a small, secretive smile on her lips.

“Oh, nothing,” Mary finally said, waving her hand dismissively as if it was no big deal. But her grin betrayed her completely. “It’s just… you said something really funny.”

James raised an eyebrow, looking at them skeptically. “What did I say?” he asked, sitting up a bit straighter, still not fully awake.

Lily finally broke down into a fit of laughter, her shoulders shaking, and she couldn’t get a word out. Marlene started giggling loudly again, and soon the entire group was laughing uncontrollably, as if they were all sharing a private joke that only they understood.

James looked from one girl to the next, utterly bewildered, still bleary-eyed from sleep. “Come on, what did I say?” he repeated, but this time it was clear he was losing patience—or maybe he was afraid of what he might have revealed.

The girls just laughed harder. Mary tried to compose herself and put on a serious face, but as soon as she met Lily’s gaze, she burst into laughter again.

“It’s really not important, James,” Marlene said between fits of laughter, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. “You were just… very sleepy.”

James looked from one to the other and shook his head in defeat, muttering something about “impossible women” as he leaned back in his chair again. But there was a faint blush creeping across his face, as if he was worried he might have revealed more than he could remember.

They were still laughing as they tried to get back to their card game, while James sat there watching them with a mixture of confusion and cautious suspicion.