This is it.
Regulus looks over the edge of the astronomy tower .
He's mostly just doing this for the dramatics, this place is warded heavily to prevent suicides due to just how many have taken place here.
The real method Regulus plans on using is a basic muggle knife.
He thinks that Barty probably gave it to him, but he can't recall if it was a gift or just an instance of him forgetting to get it back after it was borrowed.
Not that it really matters.
Regulus takes the fairly small knife out of his pocket and admires how it gleams in the moonlight, not quite reflecting stars.
This will be such a mundane way to go, he thinks.
The Blacks are never known for being mundane, so in a way this is a small act of rebellion which reflects just how much he wishes he could act out in daily life.
Of course Regulus knows this will hurt his friends and maybe even his brother, but he just can't find it in him to care.
He's been stressed and absolutely exhausted for so long that it's like a second-skin, he can't shed his burdens so the next best thing is just not being alive to deal with them anymore.
Regulus huffs from where he's leaning on railing.
It's pretty cold outside for September, but he supposes its because of how high up he is. Wisps of wind bite at his cheeks.
He takes the now cold metal of the knife to his wrist and decides to stop delaying.
Regulus only makes one cut, but he makes sure not to stagger; keeping a consistently deep line.
The pain is overbearing, but the headache he has before is now replaced with lightheaded-ness.
Regulus doubts he's lost enough blood yet to be feeling this way, so it must just be the heavy anxiety welling in his gut that's making him feel this way.
He puts the knife in his other hand and although his grip is now twitchy and weak, he's still able to get a fairly good cut on the other wrist.
Regulus drops the knife and looks up at the sky.
He doesn't look for a specific family member, but he takes note of their position when he finds them nonetheless.
Finally, Regulus sits down. Scanning constellations is the only thing distracting him from the excruciating throb coming from his injuries.
Tearing away his gaze at last, he looks down at himself. A star within it's own right.
Regulus registers that not only did he sit in a puddle of blood, but now there's other pools gathering around him.
He wishes he didn't know that humans had this much blood.
His wish doesn't matter because it won't change a thing.
Closing his eyes, Regulus takes a breathe thats meant to be deeper then it ends up being.
His vision grows fuzzy, and he just leans into it. The cold of the night supplies a surprisingly good numbing.
He hears faint footsteps coming up the astronomy tower steps.