Sad boy poetry
James sees Regulus sitting in the alcove in the abandoned part of the castle. He has his legs bent and he’s focused on the notebook in his lap, writing in a hurry, like his hand can’t keep with the words inside his head. He smiles to himself.
“Writing your sad boy poetry?” He smirks and Regulus’ head snaps up.
“Oh, fuck of Potter.”
James laughs “Only you can be pretentious enough to write poetry in the middle of this sunny day.” And he pushes Regulus off the wall he is leaning against. Regulus lets him and James settles in behind him so Regulus will lean against him instead.
“It’s not my fault that you are this cultural barbarian who can’t appreciate art.” Regulus rolls his eyes but closes his notebook.
“So, educate me.” James places a quick kiss on his curls. Sometimes he is lucky, and Regulus reads some of his poems to him. Sometimes he is not. But the way Regulus hesitated and didn't immediately reject him, he assumes that today might be his lucky day. “Read something for me, Reg.” He whispers and Regulus slowly opens his notebook again. He's been flipping through the pages for a while until he settles on one page with a short poem with the title Memories.
Regulus clears his throat and starts reading:
The waves of echoes of the past
Rocking the ship of my mind
The ones that looked peaceful
Now drowning me
Stealing the breath from my lungs
Even though I'm still on my boat holding tight
Fight them, leave them, admire them
They never go away
You are me and I am you
Oh, the waves of echoes of the past
Curel and always changing forms
The sea is full of them
And one day I will become one of you
Only a wave in someone else sea