Chapter 26
In the House of Black, a quiet morning was a good morning. If Regulus didn’t awaken to the sound of screaming and smashing glass, or get verbally abused by the portraits on his way down to breakfast, and his parents didn’t talk at all throughout the meal, it could be classed as a good morning.
Regulus used to go to bed every night praying, begging everyone and everything out there that the next morning he would have a quiet morning. He used to get up early and strain his ears, listening to every movement from the lower floors, checking the heaviness of his father's steps, and how loudly the doors were closed in an effort to determine how the day would go.
Was he able to go down the stairs relaxed and assure himself that everything would be okay? Or did he have to make sure every single atom of his appearance was perfect, try fruitlessly to make sure there was nothing they could criticise, tip-toe his way around and not make a single noise to avoid their wrath?
He hadn’t ever known that noise could be warm, and fill you with a fuzzy feeling of joy until he met James Potter. James used noise to express love in a way Regulus had never encountered before.
He would yell his feelings from the rooftops, letting the words ‘I love regulus black’ echo across the walls and repeat like a mantra. James would rant to his parents, to his friends, and even to Regulus about everything he loved and adored and appreciated about his boyfriend. James would sing cheesy lovesongs, maintaining eye contact and beaming, letting everyone around hear his heart.
James’ light livens up the darkest corners of Regulus, he fills the early mornings with laughter and music, dancing around the kitchen in pyjamas. Makes the noise waking him up in the morning that of sweet nothings spoken quietly, loitering in the air between them and forming a wall around Regulus’ heart, making it easier for him to love and be loved.
Regulus doesn’t ever want it to be silent again.