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Evan Rosier pretends to be calm, but in reality, he’s mentally shitting his pants, sitting alone in a cafe and waiting for his ex-best friend to show up.

A sweet and young waiter around Evan’s age has already asked him if she can get him anything several times, but Evan refuses to order anything yet. If he does, the cup will be empty far too soon out of sheer anxiety, and then he’ll have to go pee in the middle of something important. He can’t really risk that. Not when this is about Regulus.

Evan’s phone lays on the table in front of him with the screen facing down, and Evan’s tempted to check it for any new messages despite having heard no dings. Perhaps, Evan ponders, Regulus has gotten cold feet and decided showing up wouldn’t be worth the trouble. Perhaps he had been the one to flee to France this time.

Some part of him can’t help but actually hope for it. He knows it’s not the case, though. Not if Barty was right about Regulus changing, and despite every stupid thing Barty has ever told or done to Evan, he has never lied. After almost a year, Evan can see Barty certainly hasn’t changed, still speaking fondly of Regulus with a glint in his eye as if Regulus is an angel and not the literal reincarnation of Lucifer himself.

They’re not together, Evan reminds himself, not according to Barty, at least, but they’re still just as close as before. To be completely honest, there’s a part of Evan that is hurt that he didn’t have a greater impact on them, that they can continue on with their lives perfectly fine without him. Because the truth is, Evan can’t go on without them. 

It’s so devastating to realise you’ve grown so attached to someone that you can’t leave them behind even when they hurt you. That though Evan managed to get away and heal his wounds in peace, their poison still runs in his veins to this day.

Therefore, when Barty told him Regulus had changed, it didn’t take long before Evan found Regulus’ contact and unblocked the number, texting him:

Bartysaidyouwantedtotalk. Youupforcoffee?

Almost as if Regulus had been staring at his phone, waiting for that exact message, three small dots appeared in the bottom of the screen as Regulus typed his response. And then because Evan liked to pretend he didn’t care what Regulus had to say and because he liked to torture himself, he put his phone down, leaving it in his bed. Making sure to brush his teeth for at least two minutes after that was probably the hardest thing Evan had done all day, but finally, Evan slipped under the covers and checked the message.

Sure. Sundayattwo?

Evan didn’t even check his calendar to make sure he had the time, just wrote “deal” and sent an address to be on the safe side. Regulus gave the text a thumbs up, and that was it. No small talk afterwards or anything to end the conversation lightly. It wasn’t even a surprise, because Regulus had always been a dry texter, but still Evan had expected more. He wasn’t sure what “more” meant, but he had definitely hoped for something a bit clearer. What were they? Potential friends again? Enemies?

Afterwards, Evan spent at least an hour staring at their three vapid texts, before mindlessly scrolling up to prior messages. Every text was a punch to the gut, yet Evan couldn’t stop reading. It felt good somehow, nostalgic, like a childhood you’ll never get back but always remember. Sad, almost.

Evan thinks the clock on his chest of drawers said 3.47 am when he finally put down his phone and went to bed, but because he’s not certain that it’s not just something his mind has made up, Evan has chosen to pretend like it never happened. He didn’t spend hours reading old texts between him and Regulus just like he didn’t spend every waking hour since then and until now worrying about today – aka sunday. He simply didn’t. 

A flash of dark clothes pass by the window, and Evan’s heart definitely doesn’t skip a beat as his gaze lands on the silhouette. It’s warm today, and Evan himself is wearing a loose white shirt with a pair of shorts that reach just above the knees. Simple and suitable for the weather, an outfit every other sensible person would’ve chosen. However, the boy outside is covered from top to toe, dressed in long dark jeans and a fitted black turtleneck, not to mention that he’s got a coat thrown over his arm like a gentleman from the 1800s.

Evan has only ever met one person who dresses like that when it’s 25 degrees and sun. 

The bell on the doorframe rings as the door is opened, and Evan thinks the whole room goes silent, as Regulus Black steps inside. Small silver earrings hang from his lobes, matching the rings on his fingers, and his hair is just as effortlessly perfect as always, lying in soft curls around his porcelain face. Piercing blue eyes scan the relaxed cafe, and in a split second the light hits him from just the right angle, showing off his sharp jawline and cheekbones. 

Evan can’t decide if he looks like a model or a vampire.

Suddenly Regulus’ gaze finds Evan, and though both of them keep their composure, giving each other an acknowledging nod, Evan’s certain Regulus is just as nervous as he is. It’s in the way he walks, guarded and tense, in the way he hides his hands in his pockets to keep Evan from noticing how they’re shaking, in the way he clenches his jaw and tries to appear unfazed.

Evan thinks Regulus might have figured him out as well. Equals in so many ways, yet still so different. Carefully, Regulus hangs his coat over the backrest of the chair across from Evan, sitting down and folding his hands in his lap. 

“Hi,” he exhales, voice barely shaking. Evan has to give it to him. He’s good at pretending, probably better than Evan. If the two of them didn’t know each other so well, Evan probably wouldn’t see or hear the small imperfections in Regulus’ facade. Guess that’s what comes with friendship: Vulnerability.

“Hey.”

It’s different than chatting with Barty again. Barty’s got a natural talent for rambling on and easing tension. Neither Regulus and Evan have ever mastered that ability.

“Have you ordered anything yet?”

“No, I wanted to wait for you.”

Evan and Regulus are the types to get straight to the point. While Barty’s like a vulture, circling around whatever he wants to say for hours before finally just going for it, Evan and Regulus are like falcons, swiftly diving for the core of the issue before the suspense gets too unbearable.

“Oh,” Regulus furrows his brows in a silent question. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay,” Evan says, quickly dismissing Regulus’ consideration with a wave of his hand. “It’s no trouble. I’m in no rush.”

Regulus nods carefully, eyes fixed on Evan’s face as if he’s trying to guess what he’s thinking. It’s unsettling, yet so typically Regulus in some way. Letting out a long-held breath, Evan leans slightly forward and plops both elbows down on the cold table so it can hold his weight instead of himself. He’s already exhausted from this on its own, and Evan has a feeling the conversation they’re about to have only will take more energy.

“Yeah,” Regulus sighs, running a hand through his hair. For a second he looks drained, then his mask falls into place again. “I’m sorry I’m late. The bus was delayed.”

“I figured,” Evan mutters inconsequentially. Finally, Regulus’ eyes shift away from Evan, moving to dart around the bustling cafe as if it’s another little thing he can figure out with his too-clever gaze. Despite the busy waiters practically running around to take orders and deliver cakes and coffee cups, a pleasant atmosphere oozes from almost every table. It makes relaxing easier, even when you sit in front of someone like Regulus Black. 

Normally, Evan isn’t the type to go out to drink coffee – that’s more of Pandora’s area – but he likes this specific cafe. Perhaps it’s for the sole reason that it makes him feel content and that he has made lots of good memories here, and not because of the actual food and drinks, but Evan chooses to ignore that and focus on something else.

Then, before the fear can talk him out of it, he says, “Barty mentioned you live together now?”

It’s phrased as a question because Evan wants Regulus to elaborate, not because Evan doubts the truthfulness. If Barty says he and Regulus live together now, they do, Evan doesn't need to double check anything. However, while Barty might never directly lie, he’s just never been the best at phrasing and interpreting situations, meaning that whatever leaves his mouth might not be the exact truth in other people's eyes. 

Therefore, Evan concludes, hearing about it from Regulus' point of view can’t be a completely bad idea.

“Yeah, we do,” Regulus’ confirms, looking down into his lap. “Did he tell you about what happened back in October?” Evan frowns. “No? Well, do you remember that Lestrange boy I used to date? His family was over for dinner one evening, and like…well, he was there and I was there, and we were bored, and we had too much time...”

“Regulus, he is your ex for a reason,” Evan emphasises, a smile breaking loose on his lips. It’s too idiotic of a story to not be at least a bit funny.

“I know! I’m not proud of it. However, I did tell him that it would only be a one-time thing and that there would be no feelings involved in anything at all,” Regulus clarifies, holding his hands up in surrender.

Evan can’t help but notice that it all almost feels normal to just laugh. It surprises him how fast a year of separation can be undone.

“Was he just fine with that?”

“Seemingly, yeah. But that’s not the important part,” Regulus points out. “The thing is, apparently our parents weren’t as drunk and oblivious as we might have thought them to be-”

“Theywalkedinonyou?” Evan suddenly interrupts, feeling his jaw drop as he realises where Regulus is going with the story. It’s impossible, though, Evan convinces himself. Saying that Regulus’ parents will kill their son if they find out he’s gay won’t be an exaggeration. They’re fucking mental.

“Yeah,” Regulus admits, looking slightly embarrassed at the memory clearly vivid in his mind. “I was disowned in less than an hour.”

“Disowned?” Evan repeats dumbfounded. A year. He had been gone for merely a year, and while he had been fooling around in France, Regulus had been thrown out of his own house. “You- Does Pan know about this?”

“No, I didn’t want to bother her, since I’m sure she’d fret.”

“Well, no shit, Regulus. She’s your friend too. You’re allowed to fret when one of your best friends gets fucking disowned.” At Evan’s tone, Regulus’ head shoots up, and the confusion and surprise shining in his eyes are too sincere to be some sort of tactic mindfuck from Regulus’ side. It’s real. Whatever Regulus hears in Evan’s statement shocks him, and at first, Evan doesn’t get what it could possibly be. Then it all clicks.

Evan’s heart leaps in his chest, his mouth falling open in shock, and bewilderment clogs his brain. He wants to protest in some way, but Regulus manages to get his act together before Evan does, looking away and continuing in a heartbeat. “Yeah, but, well, I got the situation under control pretty fast. You know, I moved in with Barty, so there was really no need to involve anyone else.”

Youdidn’tthinkthatI’dcare. 

It feels like someone has punched him. Hard. And directly in the abdomen where it hurts the most.

Regulus didn’t expect Evan to care, didn’t expect any sympathy or pity, only harsh laughs and sentences like “you deserved it”. He might have even specifically decided to keep it from Pandora for the sole purpose of Evan not accidentally finding out. 

Regulus thought Evan hated him too much to want to help.

Well, he intended to, Evan’s mind supplies, at the beginning, at least. But how? How was Evan supposed to hate Regulus?

He was Evan’s first-ever friend. The one person who by Evan’ side at all times. Even when Barty fooled around with random girls and Evan’s feelings, Regulus was just as solid and dependable as ever. 

Evan would trust Regulus with his life – probably still will. Regulus was always such a big part of Evan’s life that Evan no longer can remember a time where his solution to a problem wasn’t “What would Regulus do?”. 

All that was the one and only reason it all hurt so bad when Regulus crossed the line and slept with Barty. Evan had been prepared to get hurt by Barty who held his fragile heart with clumsy hands, but he hadn’t seen Regulus coming. Hadn’t expected Regulus to be the one to wield the knife. 

Storming out of Barty’s flat and flying to France was rough and chaotic. However, once the first wave of ache and betrayal had subsided, Evan was simply alone in an empty flat somewhere in the middle of France, pathetically missing his friends. If Regulus had reached out to Evan through Pandora to tell him that he had been disowned, Evan’s certain he would’ve taken the first flight back to London. And he wouldn’t even have been embarrassed about it.

“Anyways,” Regulus sighs. His gaze still won’t land on Evan, and he looks slightly thrown off. “I, uh, well-”

“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but can I get you two anything?” The young waiter from earlier flashes Evan a crooked smile, and Evan straight-up considers telling her that he’s gay. 

What is it with people just assuming his sexuality to be straight lately?

“Uh, depends,” Evan quickly gets out, eyes nervously darting to Regulus. “Do you know what you want yet?”

“Sure, can I get a black coffee?” 

Black coffee. Evan suppresses a snort while the waiter directs her attention to her notepad and scribbles Regulus’ order down. Of course, a year was enough time to get disowned but not to improve Regulus’ disgusting taste in coffee.

“I’ll take a latte,” Evan adds, leaning back against the backrest and folding his arms across his chest.

After a few more seconds, the waiter looks up again, offering up another sweet smile, which Evan ironically mirrors. It gains him a giggle, and on the other side of the table, Regulus indiscreetly rolls his eyes.

“If you need anything, just call out and I’ll be on my way,” the waiter says, tilting her head in a way that’s most likely supposed to attract boys’ attention. Evan wouldn’t know, though.

“Of course. I’ll call,” Evan says, trying to keep the laugh out of his voice. Normally, he wouldn’t find a situation like this entertaining at all, but there’s something about having a girl try to subtly flirt with him when Regulus Black sits before him and looks graver than death himself.

When Evan doesn’t say anything else, the waiter nods and disappears, leaving Evan and Regulus to themselves again. 

“Flirting with a girl while you’ve got a girlfriend, Rosier? You’re starting to remind me of a guy I know named Barty.” Regulus shakes his head dismissively and straightens up in his seat, crossing his arms in the same manner as Evan.

“What?” Evan manages to exclaim, just before the puzzles fall into place and then Evan dissolves into laughter. Regulus just stares confused. “Barty told you I had a girlfriend, didn’t he?”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t,” Evan sniggers, mentally cursing Barty’s name.

“Makes more sense, to be honest,” Regulus scoffs. It doesn’t seem to surprise him that Barty was wrong.

“He’s absolutely unbelievable,” Evan grins in disbelief, hiding his face in his hands. Barty told Regulus that Evan had a girlfriend. He told Regulus. “You know, sometimes I think he chooses to be dumb.”

Regulus grunts, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Can’t be too far from the truth.” Evan shakes his head in agreement, pressing his lips tightly together to contain another chuckle. 

“Now,” Regulus starts again, “why does Barty think you’ve got a girlfriend?”

“Because Pan’s got a girlfriend.”

“Pan’s got a girlfriend?”

“Mhm,” Evan hums to which Regulus frowns.

“What does that have to do with Barty thinking you’ve got a girlfriend?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. But since the three of us all live together at the moment, I suppose Barty got the wrong idea after seeing me and Lily being close. It’s just a guess, though. Who knows what really happens in that big brain of his.”

Evan shrugs, making a sweeping gesture, before meeting Regulus’ gaze. The other boy sends him a brief smile, and inside Evan, a warm feeling starts to bloom. Despite everything that has happened over the last year, Regulus still deems him worthy enough to let Evan experience this chiller and kinder side of him, including the insanely rare Regulus Black smile. 

It’s not really a smile, though, more of a grimace. Barty used to bully him for it. However, after Regulus directed a hard punch to Barty’s face, the comments were gone pretty fast.

“Honestly, I’m a bit embarrassed I believed him now,” Regulus admits with a sigh. “I should’ve realised something didn’t add up.”

“You should’ve,” Evan agrees, suppressing a laugh. The image of Barty sneering at Lily’s name in front of Regulus is playing on repeat in his head, and some petty part of Evan revels in the fact that his and Lily’s friendship annoys Barty. Oh, how he grudgingly loves unnecessary drama. Really, what is the point of reading a book if there is no miscommunication and silent suffering?

“About that thing before,” Regulus suddenly says. His voice has returned to being cold and grave, and Evan nods seriously, knowing they’re about to go there again. “Me being disowned and all that. I think it made me understand that I…well, that I had to do something, you know. I couldn’t continue like that. I had no one. You were in France, and Barty and I weren’t really on speaking terms. My parents had just thrown me out, and my own brother has his own life going on – without me. I had no home, nowhere to stay, and no one to turn to.”

Regulus is slightly stuttering, occasionally stopping to try to find the right words, and seeing him so unsure of himself is new to Evan. Seeing him be so open and vulnerable is new, and it makes Evan tense up and feel like he can’t be careful enough. He’s almost scared he’ll miss something crucial if he looks away for even a blink.

Barty mentioned Regulus had changed, yet it still surprises Evan. As if he already subconsciously decided that he couldn’t trust Barty’s judgement of Regulus’ character because of prior incidents. Currently, it’s not the case, though. For once, Barty hadn’t exaggerated.

He’s trying, Evan. And he’s not perfect, but he’s really, really trying. You should see him. It’s crazy. He’s practically a new person.

“And standing outside on the pavement, all soaked from the rain, I think it just dawned on me how much I hated everything,” Regulus confesses, shrugging as if it can somehow take away the sting of his confession. His gaze still refuses to meet Evan’s, focusing on his fidgeting fingers, mindlessly picking at the black nail polish. “I hated where I was, both mentally and physically, and in some way, it was my own fault that I was stuck where I was.”

“Regulus, that’s not-”

“Please, Evan, just listen,” Regulus sighs. He looks exhausted, even more than before, and Evan’s heart actually aches for him. Yes, Regulus is partly to blame for some of the mess he’s involved in, but the outside world also isn’t exactly on his side. “Just let me finish. Please?”

“Okay,” Evan promises, voice barely above a whisper. Regulus nods before swallowing and taking a deep breath. He’s good at hiding emotions, he really, really is, but as he continues, Regulus can’t keep the shaking out of his voice, his eyes getting just a tad glassy.

“I wanted to do something reckless. Something completely out of pocket, just for the sake of doing something completely out of pocket, because how could it in any scenario get any worse?” 

It hits Evan that Regulus could’ve been dead. That if he had listened to that destructive voice in his head, Regulus could’ve ended up in the morning papers. Black heir found dead in an alleyway. Assumed cause of death: overdose of drugs and alcohol.

When would Evan have found out? Over half a year later when he finally returned home to London, if not later?

“I didn’t though,” Regulus says, clearing his throat. “I don’t know why, but I remembered what you said. Two months earlier. After…you know.” And oh. Oh, no. “You said I constantly blame everyone else and that everyone let me get away with everything.”

“Look, Regulus, I was mad, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“You did, Evan, we both know,” Regulus interrupts easily. He sounds calmer now. Like the anxiety left his body alongside the words. “And it’s fine. It really is. You weren’t completely wrong, were you?”

Evan winces mentally, about to speak up and apologise like he’s wanted to do ever since he saw Regulus walk in through the door of the cafe. However, Regulus carries on with his story before Evan gets anything out.

“I should’ve realised the truth in what you had said earlier, but I didn't. Fortunately, there was something about being disowned that made me open my eyes to the toxicity not only radiating off everyone around me but also myself. It was a good thing you left. Because if you hadn’t we’d have killed you in some way – me and Barty, i mean. We would’ve worn you down just like we were wearing ourselves down, fucking miserable 24 hours a day.”

Regulus grimaces to himself. Though he’s most definitely speaking to Evan, his eyes stare blindly at the table, not even searching for patterns in the wood anymore, just zoned out. Evan can only imagine what memories his brain has decided to show him. Based on his facial expression, nothing too pretty.

“So while it hurt, the things you said, it had to be said. If you hadn’t, we’d most likely still be exactly where we were before, hurting each other over and over, but never leaving because we all in some way or another think we deserve the pain. Even you.” Evan sits frozen, mouth hanging open, gaze stuck on Regulus. Some part of him wants to yell at Regulus for even suggesting something as absurd as that, to tell him to shut the fuck up because he doesn’t know shit about Evan. The other part of him feels seen in a way he’s never been before.

Ironically enough, Regulus practically just did what Evan did to him a year ago. Dug into Evan’s soul and pieced the shattered parts together to reveal a nasty and painful truth Evan would’ve never discovered on his own. It’s truly marvellous how someone else can figure yourself out before you do yourself, but to be honest, Evan’s not really surprised. He himself is stuck in his own head, unable to navigate his scrambled mind. Regulus, on the other hand, is on the outside and can see the whole picture. He knows Evan and therefore he catches the secret meanings and hidden symbols before Evan even becomes aware of them. Because to Evan, it’ll all always be one big mess.

If Regulus hadn’t slept with Barty, Evan wouldn’t have left. He would’ve endured the pain it caused seeing Barty long for someone else because pain is better than feeling nothing at all. If Regulus hadn’t been disowned and Evan hadn’t told him how much of an asshole he was, Regulus wouldn’t have changed either. He would’ve continued to suffer in silence because pain is better than acknowledging that you’re not okay.

They’re freaks, really. All three of them. Obsessed with pain and mentally ill. They’ll push the boundaries, see how many they can break without getting in trouble, before eventually breaking themselves. The definition of Matches Made in Hell. So royally fucked up in the head that it’s all just a sick joke to them. Hurting each other because they know their own problems will be tossed right back in their own faces with ten times the force.

Finally, Regulus looks up, eyes going to the waiter from before, carrying a tray with two cups balancing on top. The second Evan looks in her direction, he receives another toothy smile. This time, Evan doesn’t bother with returning it.

Silence hangs over the table as the girl places a cup first in front of Evan and then one in front of Regulus. Out of the corner of his eye, Evan notices that something is scribbled down the napkin next to his cup. However, he pretends he doesn’t to avoid the awkwardness of having to address it while the waiter is still by their table. Regulus’ eyes also graze it, but he’s too good of an actor for Evan to see if he understands what it is or not.

“Can I tempt you with anything else?” the girl asks sweetly, hopeful gaze landing on Evan immediately. 

“I’d say, we’re good.”

When Regulus doesn’t protest, the waiter gives a curt nod before disappearing again. Evan almost feels bad for leading her on. Almost.

“Mind informing Barty I’ve got a girl’s number today, hm?”

“He’d kill me. Then you.”

“And the issue is?”

Regulus shrugs despairingly, giving no inclination of carrying on with their chitchat, and after another second, Evan carefully folds the napkin on the middle so the number is no more visible. He considers writing “I’m gay” on it and leave it for the waiter to find, just to add to the chaos, but he talks himself out of it. 

Like Regulus said, they’ve finally somehow managed to break loose from their bad habits. Returning to creating damage for the sake of hurting everyone, including themselves, won’t bring anything good.

“I was really mad, Regulus,” Evan starts. Regulus has already put himself out there, which means it’s Evan’s turn now. “When I saw the two of you together. It hurt. A lot. And I- I needed you to understand that.”

Evan sighs. Regulus can say he’s grateful Evan broke their restlessly running in circles by yelling nasty shit to his face as much as he wants, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t hurtful. Being informed that you’re not a nice person doesn’t feel good, and after almost a year, Evan can admit he’s not proud of the things he said, that he crossed the line just as much as Regulus did, and that he wishes he had handled it more maturely. He was hurt, though. Weren’t they all in some way?

“I didn’t know what else to say to get you to understand what it felt like, because prior to that I’d never managed to make you really understand. So, I said a lot of really cruel things that I probably shouldn’t have-”

“Evan, I told you-”

“Nope, it’s my turn, Reg. Said with as much respect as possible, shut up,” Evan grits out. “I don’t care what objections you may have, you deserve an apology just as much as I do. I was unnecessarily cruel and I want you to know I’m not trying to excuse myself in any way, only explain. I’m sorry for what I said, and I’m sorry that sorry is all I have to offer.”

He wants to add that he didn’t mean what he said, that it was all a lash of anger, but both of them know it would be a lie. If Regulus hadn’t seen any truth in Evan’s words, he wouldn’t have tried to change himself so drastically. The two of them wouldn’t be sitting in a cafe, trying to apologise to each other in their own pathetic ways. Regulus might’ve been dead and Evan perhaps still in France, feeling sorry for himself.

Regulus holds Evan’s gaze willingly, and though he doesn’t say “I forgive you”, the nods he offers says it all perfectly fine. 

“I’m sorry too. What I did was fucked. But, Evan, I didn’t do it to hurt anyone.” Regulus shakes his head. “I thought I was fine – I genuinely believed it – and I didn't understand why I couldn't just forget all the bad things, why I was always so pessimistic and tired of everything. I thought that maybe if I just took the first step in another direction, I could eventually run away from my responsibilities and the haunting memories. I thought I could make myself fall in love with him, Evan. I thought that over time, I’d change… But I didn’t and I knew it as soon as we woke up the next morning. I was going to talk to him about it, tell him that I had fucked up, but I never got the chance to.”

Regulus doesn’t need to add that it's not an excuse, only an explanation, as Evan phrased it. It already hangs unsaid in the air, because after making such big mistakes it’s the only thing they can provide each other with. A peace offering despite being at war for almost a year. Blind trust and an outstretched hand.

Evan nods gently, wrapping his hands around the warm cup. A small steam still emerges from Regulus’ coffee, and small clusters of brown bubbles dance across the smooth dark surface whenever Regulus stirs. In Evan’s opinion, there has always been something calming about drinking coffee, like a feeling of being infinitely cosy.

It's nice. And it fits the moment. Helps Evan relax and take it all slowly. A hopeful part of him thinks that maybe they’ve still got a chance to try again, to take it slow and make things right.

The surrounding chatter is low-voiced and gentle, and Evan can’t help his yawn as he stretches, both hands above his head. A drowsy smile sits on his lips, and his chair feels like it has been moulded perfectly to his body. He could take a big long nap here, Evan realises, and afterwards he’ll take on the world. It can’t be too hard, not when he’s currently sitting in a cafe with Regulus and they’re okay. Fuck it, everything is going to be fine. Even he and Barty are-

Okay, maybe that issue isn’t completely ideal yet.

Evan grimaces, hiding his expression behind a sip.

He’ll fix it later… Or not. Not everything is his responsibility after all. And least of all Barty.

Evan casts a pondering sidelong glance at Regulus. The other boy has lifted his cup and is now carefully sipping at his tasteless black coffee to not burn himself on the scolding liquid. As usual, his facial expression shows nothing, and his attention is directed at someone at a table next to them. He doesn’t try to hide that he’s observing and following along in their conversation, and Evan doubts he’ll stop his nosiness even if he gets caught. 

Should he tell Regulus? Evan contemplates. He wants to tell someone what happened at the party a few days ago. However, saying it out loud will make it real. That way, Evan can’t pretend like it’s never happened, can’t forget about it, and ignore the pathetic feelings he definitely doesn’t have.

If he tells Regulus, he’ll have to acknowledge it himself, and really, that’s the last thing he’d want to do. It was a mistake and forgetting it would be for the better. It would make making up so much easier.

It would. But what if Evan can’t forget? What if he’s been licking his lip the exact place Barty’s tongue grazed? What if his ears have been filled with needy sighs and familiar groans? What if he’s been imagining someone else’s hand instead of his own, carefully trailing down his body under the covers?

No. Evan can’t really talk to Regulus about that. Can’t talk to anyone about that. Not even his sister, who he usually tells everything.

Why? Pandora had asked him a few weeks ago. Why do you want to stay in France?

This is why. Barty is why. 

One day. That was how long Evan had been back. And already the two of them had together managed to screw it all up again. One day and already Evan had fallen back into that hole of unrequited longing and pining. One day and already it hurt.

So, Evan doesn’t bring up Barty, only pushes the feelings and memories to the back of his mind where they won’t affect anyone or anything. And after that, he continues a nonchalant conversation with Regulus, laughing once in a while when it’s deemed necessary and solely focusing on the fact that he and Regulus are fine at the moment. Because at least, they know how to make things work and maybe, for once, the problem could be Barty and not Evan.

But it’s not, isn’t it? Evan’s the only one with actual feelings. He’s the reason they’re stuck in this shitty position in the first place. 

It’s been a year. A lot has changed. Still, everything would be easier if Evan simply hadn’t come back. If he simply didn’t exist.

…

Evan and Regulus decide to take the bus back to Evan, Pandora and Lily’s flat together. Neither of them have anything better to do than catching up, and Regulus also wants to talk to Pandora and be personally introduced to Lily, so the decision has more or less already been made for them. Not to mention that it’s another way for them to show that they want to move forward and leave the past behind, forgiven and forgotten.

The ride back is quiet. Regulus ends up offering Evan an airpod, and then the two of them just sit silently next to each other, listening to whatever Taylor Swift songs Regulus has on his playlist. Or Evan assumes the female voice belongs to Taylor Swift; he isn’t a Swiftie like Regulus is, only knows a few hits of hers.

Just before they reach their destination, Evan’s certain he can recognize the song playing. He just can’t pinpoint the title. In the end, he never does manage to guess the title. Regulus takes the airpod back, motioning for Evan to get up from his seat so they don’t accidentally miss the stop, and then the song is long forgotten, Evan leading the way to the door.

There’s not too far from the bus stop to the flat, and approximately five minutes pass before they turn a corner and the building appears a few blocks down the street. However, it’s not the flat on its own that makes Evan stop in the middle of the pavement, eyebrows flying up in an instant.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Evan asks out loud, unsure if he’s talking to Regulus or himself. On the ground right next to the small stairway leading to the door, a black mountain bike is thrown rather carelessly. There’s no helmet in sight.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Regulus mutters under his breath, pulling his phone out. He sounds annoyed, unbothered, like it’s just a dumb inconvenience, and though Evan wishes he could say he feels the same way, his heart undoubtedly speeds up and his palms go sweaty.

The thing is, Evan knows what it’s like to sit both in the saddle and behind it, arms wrapped around the middle of a laughing boy who won’t keep his feet on the pedals. He knows what it’s like to hide his own smiling face in a loose t-shirt and breathe in the familiar scent of BartyBartyBarty. He knows what Barty looks like when he’s being informed of Evan’s feelings, and he knows what his lips feel like against his own.

So no, Evan isn’t calm. But he pretends to be as he makes his way up the stairs with Regulus following close behind.

He hadn’t imagined he’d have to face both Regulus and Barty today, and to be honest, he doesn’t think he has the energy to see Barty at the moment. Not with what happened a few days ago. He feels like going to sleep and never waking up again. 

Automatically the door is locked when they reach the correct floor, and Evan knows he could just knock, but the anxiety in his head, enlightening him that Barty might be the one to answer, makes him take out his keys instead. He’s not about to bump into Barty before he’s even inside.

“He hasn’t texted me or anything,” Regulus says nonchalantly, and Evan hums, knowing damn well it’s Regulus way to tell him to not fuck up whatever fragile peace they’ve just established. He’s not a part of this; Barty’s the only one Evan will have to hold accountable.

To what? his brain asks, and Evan stops for a moment. What has Barty actually done?

Kiss Evan? Be an oblivious idiot? Breathe?

Jokes aside, there’s nothing particularly wrong with Barty showing up on the doorstep of his flat. It belongs to Pandora and Lily too. Perhaps Barty’s not even here for him? Perhaps he’s become a better person overnight and decided to apologise to Lily for being dick in general?

Evan sniggers to himself. It might’ve been a year, but that change is not possible.

The door glides open with ease, and Evan forces himself to take a deep breath before stepping inside, calling out for Pandora, though she’s not the one on his mind.

“Hey, Pan! I’m back and Reg’s with me!” Keeping his gaze directed anywhere but the doorway, Evan toes his shoes off, carelessly dumping them next to Pandora’s, Lily’s and a pair of dirty converse that’s too big to fit any of the girls. Small doodles have been drawn on them a long time ago, rain having smudged the pen lines beyond recognition. Still, Evan recognizes them as easily as his own sneakers. If you look close enough there’s also a smudged drawing, vaguely resembling a heart on Evan’s left shoe, undeniably matching one on the left converse. 

The first to appear in the open doorway, leading to the combined living room and kitchen is – shockingly – Pandora with a big toothy smile plastered on her face. She practically rushes past Evan to get to Regulus, not even bothering to say hi. After her Lily comes into view, offering Evan a strained smile, and then-

Fuck it. Evan knew he’d be there, still the sight of Barty feels like a punch to the gut, the air leaving his body faster than his will to live. 

“Hey,” Barty tries carefully. Evan’s certain Pandora is ranting to Regulus about everything and nothing, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t pick up the words – or any sounds, for that matter. All he hears is, Please, Evan. I’m sorry, I really am. I shouldn’t have- Please. Don’t go, don’t-

He should stop ogling Barty. Evan even tells himself so, but there’s just so many small things you forget in a year. Like all the details in Barty’s expressions, Evan’s always dreamed about being able to transfer to paper. And combined with all the knew stuff, like the green highlights in the front of his hair that annoyingly enough complements his eyes so fucking well – it’s just too much. Like is he intentionally trying to kill Evan or something?

Must be, with that fucking manic grin of his that shows off his sharp canines and smiley piercing.

“-Did you and Lily meet the other night? No? Lily, come here! Reg, you’ll love her, and she’ll love you. The two of you’ll-”

Lily makes her way past Evan, giving his hand a comforting squeeze before answering her girlfriend with a sweet voice Evan knows from experience is reserved for his sister only. Again, the voices fade into the background, and again, Evan’s eyes find Barty’s figure, casually leaning against the doorframe. Fuck, Evan hates how good he looks like that, laze smile playing on his lips and eyes roaming Evan’s body like he’s just allowed to do that. Evan wants to hit him – and kiss him. He’s not sure which he’d enjoy the most – or which one Barty would enjoy the most. Fifty-fifty chances, he guesses, mentally shrugging. You never know with Barty.

“-I’ll have to show it to you. Come on!” Pandora steps around Evan, who still hasn’t moved upon locking eyes with Barty, and with Regulus in tow, she rounds Barty, who also hasn’t moved. Despite sending Evan a concerned and slightly scared look, Evan sees the fondness on Regulus' face before he too vanishes after Pandora, and Evan feels his own heart swell with a tender feeling. “Lily! You too!”

“Coming,” Lily yells after her. She comes up next to Evan, forcing his attention to shift away from Barty and onto her. From the outside, the looks she sends him could seem meaningless, but Evan understands that it’s a warning. That if he doesn’t follow too, he’ll be alone with Barty in a second. She doesn’t know what happened at the Barty, Evan hasn’t told her, yet she always catches on when no one else does.

Giving Evan another subtle look, Lily wastes no more time before beginning to make her way through the narrow hallway, this time with Evan following right behind. There’s not much space in the doorway, and since Barty for some reason decides not to move, his hand grazes Evan’s for a split second. And though Evan keeps his gaze on the floor, it’s still enough to make his skin tingle.

Fuckyou, Evan curses silently, hoping Barty can somehow read his mind. It doesn’t matter, though. He’s going to stick to Lily all afternoon, use her to keep Barty far, far away until he and Regulus finally leave. A simple, yet effective bulletproof plan-

“Hey, uh, Ev?” Evan stops dead in his tracks, back fortunately turned towards Barty. So. fucking. Close. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

For a third time in the span of one minute, Lily turns to him, silently checking up on him. She frowns questioning at whatever she sees in his gaze, confirming Evan’s suspicion that he looks like he’s going to throw up or faint – or worse, die. Sounds like a reasonable outfall of what’s going to happen in a second.

“Alone, please?” Barty urges and Evan sighs again, offering Lily a curt nod.

“Fine,” Evan says once Lily’s gone, regretting to turn around even before he does it. Why? His mind winces, to which he agrees. Why?

Barty bites his lip, brows pulled together and eyes focused on the room behind Evan, before a look of decisiveness swiftly flashes across his features. Evan already wants to protest.

“Okay,” Barty mutters, then suddenly his hand wraps around Evan’s wrist and Evan’s being urged back into the hallway. Or no, he realises as Barty opens the door to the bathroom, he’s going to lock them in a toilet. Together. Fuck, Evan hates his life.

“Barty,” Evan objects, trying – and failing – to get Barty to slow down. “Wait. Can you just-”

“One sec, Rosie,” Barty interrupts, unfazed as usual. With a slightly more determined tug, he pulls Evan in next to him, carefully closing the door while peaking through as if he expects someone to catch him doing something he shouldn’t. “You were saying?”

Barty turns around, back hitting the door as he leans up against it and prevents Evan from leaving. Feeling the complaints die on his tongue, Evan bites back a humourless laugh and instead forces himself to take another deep breath. Evan would say he’s a collected young man, yet there’s just something about Barty Crouch jr. that can make his blood boil. Like that shit-eating grin that currently sits on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Evan says, repeating his words from the party. 

“I’ve been all alone all day, so when dear Reggie texts me he’ll be spending the rest of the afternoon with you and your lovely sister, I have to tag along. You know me, Ev, I’m an attention whore through and through. Can’t stand being alone for too long,” Barty responds, voice coated with sugar and head tilted suggestively. 

Without missing a beat, Evan says, “at least, you’re self-aware.”

“I’m very self aware. You have to be when you love yourself as much as I do. Speaking of self-love, you should try it. A bit of sunshine could do you well, Rosie.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Evan bites back, dashing Barty’s hand away before he can managed to twirl one of Evan’s curl around his index finger. “Just say whatever you want to say, okay? Unlike you, I don’t have all day. I have actual things to do.” He doesn’t. But he does however need Barty to get it over with before he dwells too much on the fact that they’re alone and in a bathroom of all places.

“Such as?” Barty presses and Evan instantly realises his mistake. Barty knows him well enough to know when he lies. Evan doesn't care, though. Or pretends not to, at least.

“None of your business,” he sneers, stepping away to physically put distance between them. His fried brain desperately needs as much air as it can get.

“Sure thing,” Barty mutters and Evan can actually hear the eye roll. “Anyways, lovely loo, by the way.”

“What do you want?” Evan says, ignoring Barty’s last statement on purpose. If he’s allowed, he’ll go on forever like that. Mirroring Barty’s stand, Evan rests his back against the wall opposite the door and folds his arm over his torso, face grave to show Barty that he’s not joking.

“Fine,” Barty sighs, gaze fleeting to the floor. For a second Evan thinks he looks slightly scared, then the expression is gone, and Evan is left wondering if it’s real or his mind created it to fuck with him. “You have to promise me you’ll let me finish before saying anything, though.”

“The fuck do you mean? I’m not promising you anything.”

“Then I'm not saying anything. Wanna get out of here?” Barty gestures to the door, and though a part of Evan screams yes, ready to go back to pretending everything is normal, he hesitates. It’s a sly move for Barty to say something so vague yet so intriguing when Evan’s too curious for his own good. Because now he wants to know what Barty could possibly want to say, the consequences be damned.

“Just say it, christ,” Evan exclaims after a minute of tense silence.

“Promise, Evan.”

“Just speed-talk. That way I won’t get a chance to say anything before you’re done.”

“I’ve got a whole lot to say, so nope. Won’t work, Rosie. Promise me you won’t interrupt.” And good, now Evan’s scared. He refuses to let it show, though, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. It’s not a question anymore. He needs to know what Barty has to say. Now. 

Fuck it. “Fine, I promise, whatever. Now, talk.”

The nervousness that appears in Barty’s eyes is contagious, and Evan has to fist his hands to stop himself from picking at his nails. Why does Barty have to have so much control over Evan without even realising? It’s frustrating.

“Okay, so you need to hear me out-”

“Get to the point,” Evan impatiently eggs Barty on.

“Will you let me talk?”

“Will you get to the point?”

“Jesus Christ, you’re impossible,” Barty sighs despairingly. “I’ve been thinking about something, okay?”

Evan represses the urge to say something sarcastic back, pressing his lips together tightly. He wants to get out of this bathroom as fast as possible.

“And, fuck,” Barty mutters. His head tilts back, hitting the wall behind with a low thud, and one of his hands goes to run through his hair before settling on his face, pinching his nose bridge. “You know what, I’m just going to say it.”

Thank fuck. Finally.

“Evan,” Barty begins, stepping away from the door and towards Evan. “I know you might not want to talk to me or listen to what I have to say after, well, everything.” Another exhausted sigh. “But when you left, I hadn’t realised how much I was going to miss you. And even when Regulus and I weren't talking, I was still thinking about you. Only. And I- Well, it surprised me, you see.”

It surprised me. It hurts. Knowing that Barty didn’t expect to miss Evan when Evan knew damn well he’d miss Barty if he left. Knowing Barty never fucking thought too much about him before it was already too late.

“And then there was this Friday,” Barty continues, now fully rambling on. “At the party. I- fuck, how do I say this. I felt something, okay? I don’t know what it was – what it is – but I was just happy to have you back. Happy to talk to you, see you. Everything about you made me fucking happy, Evan, and I just- The circumstances aren’t ideal, trust me, I’m aware. But what if we tried to make it work? Make us work?”

For a second, Evan’s frozen in place, trying to get Barty’s words to make sense. Then suddenly it all falls into place, and Evan’s brain goes silent.

Oh, fuck no.

“We’ll take it slow and everything, I promise. I want to do it right. Just test the waters, if you’re up for it, of course. Like, let me take you on a date. Or it doesn’t have to be a date at first, we could just-”

“No.” Evan’s voice is cold and it’s hard. It’s everything Evan doesn’t feel: calm, firm and strong.

“I,” Barty stutters. His eyes are dilated, and as he holds eye contact with Evan, he looks shook. Good. “What? You don’t want to…?”

“No, Barty,” Evan repeats, poking Barty in the chest to create more space between them. “No, I don’t want to test the waters.” Evan doesn’t need to test his feelings out; he knows what he feels, and he doesn’t need Barty to use him and discard him when he realises he doesn’t actually like Evan like that. He doesn’t need Barty to use him as a test subject because he’s got nothing better to do.

“I don’t want to go on a half-date, half-hang-out session just for you to have some fun. I don’t want that. Leave me the fuck alone.” Quickly, Evan pushes past Barty, striding for the door even as Barty follows right behind.

“No, no, no. Evan, I’m serious about this. I’m not joking. I want to go on a real date and see if it can go anywhere. Which I think it can! Just, please, Evan, give me a chance.”

Evan wants to run into his room and hide under the covers, cry because he’s pathetic and everything hurts. But Barty’s still with him, so he can’t break down. Not quite yet.

“Get out, Barty!” Evan shouts, raising his voice in the hopes that Barty will finally understand. Evan’s being just as serious as Barty says he is. 

“Evan, wait.”

“No, get out. Now!”

“When I kissed you, Evan,” Barty desperately tries again, causing Evan to stop in the middle of the hallway. Barty wants to make things betteragain, and yet he brings that up? Evan scoffs, refusing to make eye contact. “There was a moment where you almost kissed me back. Don’t lie, I know you too well. But if you wanted it too, Evan, then why do you pretend not to? Why do you push me away?”

“You are the most self-centred, arrogant prick I’ve ever met!” Evan yells, frustration welling up in the form of tears. He knows the others can probably hear them, but Evan can’t care about them right now, not when his words to Barty finally but steadily seem to sink in. “Now, get out!”

“Evan, please, forget it all then,” Barty pleads, his voice shaking. “Let’s go back to how it all was before, please. Just don’t throw me out.”

“You,” Evan continues, “can take you stupid ideas-” Evan pushes him. “-and your lame-ass excuses-” Again. “-and your nonexistent apologies-” And again. “-and go to fucking hell! Get out!”

The tears in his eyes threaten to spill, blurring Evan’s sight as he bows down, grabs Barty’s shoes, and throws them out the door. Barty just watches dumbfounded.

“Evan, please.” His voice comes out as nothing but a whisper, a last final plea. But Evan doesn’t back down. He’s been hurt enough by Barty.

“Fuck you,” Evan whispers back, his own voice shaking with how badly his heart aches from the pressure of breaking far too many times for the same reason. He’s afraid it won’t be the last time either. “Get. out.”

Keeping his eyes on Evan at all times, Barty shuffles past him until he stands on the other side of the doorframe, shoes on the ground behind him and hands lifted as if to reach out and tear Evan apart again. And it’s not fair. Because standing like this with Evan’s hand on the door, ready to smack it in his face, Barty looks like he’s the one who’s been torn apart.

“Don’t try to fucking contact me,” Evan says, the words burning in his throat. “Not through social media and not in real life.” Tears spill over and roll down his cheek, and Barty looks so lost and so hurt. However, it’s nothing compared to what Evan feels. 

The lock clicks loudly as Evan finally slams the door.

It’s satisfying, yet the smack resonates through Evan’s chest, threatening to destroy the pieces of his heart that are still left.

Turning around, Evan wipes his cheek, suddenly coming face-to-face with his sister standing in the doorway where she disappeared ten minutes ago. Behind her, both Regulus and Lily stand, silently observing him like they’re afraid he’s going to shatter. They’ve got good reason to.

“Barty had to go,” Evan sniffles, knowing damn well no one is going to believe him. Still, Pandora nods, looking like she’s in a state of shock. “I’m just gonna go into my room. Call on me if you need anything.”

Evan pushes past them before anyone can offer him their pity and make him shatter for real.

No one calls on him the rest of the day.