No. 2 in E-Flat Minor
She listened with a flitting blush,
With downcast eyes and modest grace;
For well she knew, I could not choose
But gaze upon her face
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)
James is afraid that at his best moments, when he isn't haunted by the images that trick him, he might love Regulus.
He’s afraid of it. Of a human emotion so strong the only thing you can do is let it take you. He doesn't want to fall into it. To let it unsheath its sword and fight him. He doesn't have the energy to fight. But if he doesn't fight, he’ll fall. And falling might be the worst fate of all. Falling means letting Regulus see the bad side. The side that is not worth keeping. Falling means having to let go of that boy who fell asleep in his arms only days ago. Falling is the equivalent of death.
But no matter how hard he tries his strength can't win him this fight. He falls. He falls. He falls. He can't get back up. The boy sitting under the tree next to him is so beautiful. So graceful. He can't help it. He falls in love with his eyes. He falls in love with his hands. He falls in love with his lips. He watches Regulus more often than not. Discarding his own reading to watch and watch.
James likes to touch Regulus. And Regulus lets him. James likes to hold his hand. Regulus sacrificed it for James to hold. So now James turns the pages because Regulus hasn't the hands to do so himself. James sometimes likes to kiss regulus’ hands, sometimes his shoulders. Never further. James has always been touchy. Regulus not so much.
But things have changed. Their dynamic has changed completely since the day they were reunited again. Regulus, once the cautious love, throws caution to the wind and lets his hands wander. James just accepts it. He wouldn't dare say a word in fear of it all stopping.
Other things have changed too. James used to let the words flow out of his mouth without worry. But now he holds back, afraid that if he speaks he might let Regulus know what has happened to his heart. That situation could go two ways, James is afraid of the worse.
When the sun sets they part. Soft smiles and lingering touches.
—
That is when it gets bad. James’ dream hasn't come back. James’ nightmare seems to be waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Tonight is that night. James can feel it, he tries so hard to fall asleep. Sleep never comes. No matter how much James might want it. He hears the man open the door. He hears his mother's scream. He hears his father's scream. Instinct kicks in and he runs. He sees the fire. He’s ushered outside by the cook. He runs. He is followed. He falls. He is cut. He is hit over the head. He tries to crawl away. The Man grabs him and hauls him up to his feet. He can see the thoughts running behind the man's eyes, should he kill an innocent boy or set him free? But James is already dying. The blood from the gash on his head is too much. He only has a few moments. It starts to rain. Heavy. James grabs a pocket knife from his pocket. He tries to get a good stab at him. He might have gotten him. The knife slips from his hand and falls in the mud. His hands are wet. His clothes are wet. He has enough time to think of how beautiful this storm would be if not in these circumstances. He feels the blood before the pain. He feels a knife and then he feels the ground beneath his hands as he is thrown down. A stone is there before him. He remembers Moll Dyer. He remembers the curse she called. He notices that, as he looks at the rock; it's raining. He sees the rock with a wet shine from the moonlight. He sees the heavy dark clouds as they surround the moon but do not cover it. He places his hand on the rock and he raises his other to the moon. Then nothing. Nothing but his heartbeat slowly lulling into a deep sleep.
—
Today is raining. James won't see Regulus. Regulus is pale. Easily gets cold. Regulus and rain do not go together. But it is in the rain that James thinks best. In the rain, he thinks of Regulus. He thinks of his eyes as he looks at the clouds. He thinks of his touch as he feels the rain on his arms. Thunderstorms were never his favourite thing. James remembers as a child hiding under his bed every time there was thunder. He remembers the fear. It wasn’t long after he went missing that it happened. Effie thinks it might have been the fact he was stuck outside in a storm for hours. But James knows that isn't true, since he never felt the storm, he skipped it.
It's a thunderstorm now. But James isn't scared. He knows it's just him and the rain. He has tried very hard to get to this point. To get to the point he can hear the thunder and not cower. He doesn't worry about his clothes or his hair. He doesn't worry about his mother's reaction to him coming home soaked to the bone. He doesn't worry about the cold. He doesn't worry about the thunder. But when he hears footsteps, he worries. He worries about Regulus. He worries about the boy who is now standing in front of him. His clothes are soaked. His hair is flat. But he still looks as beautiful as the day they met. Regulus stands just metres away from James.
"You shouldn't be out here," James said, concern warring with something deeper in his eyes.
"Neither should you," Regulus countered, his voice hoarse. Silence followed, punctuated only by the rain's relentless drumming
“Why did you bother with me?” Regulus yells over the heavy rain.
“What do you mean?” James steps closer, confusion lining his face.
“Most boys see my mean exterior and choose to run. Why didn’t you?”
“I didn't want to,” James can't even fathom the countless others who saw Regulus and ran. James can only see Regulus and his beauty.
“Why?”
“I don't know!” James just kept stepping closer. “When I met you I couldn't walk away. I felt like if I had left I would never get to live another day. That I’d be missing something.”
“Missing what?”
“A life without you in it? I have no idea how to explain it. I- It was like the second you stepped into my life I could not have you step out of it. It would have been undreamable.”
Regulus dropped his gaze to his feet. The rain had only gotten stronger. Regulus shivered.
“Let's get you inside.” James took his hand and tried to lead him to the manor. Regulus stayed exactly where he was though.
"No, I have to say something," Regulus blurted out, his voice barely audible over the wind's howl. He yanked his hand back, frustration battling the warmth that lingered from James' touch. "I... I treat people badly, I’m mean, I'm cruel. People don't stick around. I’m not nice" He took a shaky breath, the words tumbling out like coins from a ripped pouch. "You don't mind that I'm mean. For some reason, I think you might like it.”
“I do,” James laughed
“You haven't run, James. You just... stayed."
Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken truths. Rain lashed at their faces, blurring the lines between tears and water. In the dim light, James' eyes held a raw vulnerability that mirrored Regulus' own. Regulus whispered, more to himself than James. "I think I might love you but our world would never understand."
But James stepped closer, his voice firm despite the storm's roar. "Maybe not," he said, "but they don't have to."
He reached out, hesitant, and brushed a stray strand of hair from Regulus' cheek.
"The truth is, that for weeks, months, it's been you I see when I close my eyes, you I dream of beneath the starlight." James only moves closer.
There was a silent question that flowed in the rain. Do you feel it? Hesitantly, he nodded.
Their lips met – a secret shared beneath the sky's angry tears, a tiny flame defying the storm.
Their lips parted – and they both smiled.