A Coincidence?
It was an odd day, slightly hazy but still bright enough that the sun threatened to overheat everything on the planet. Everyone was lulled into quiet drunkenness exhausted from the constant heat beating down on them. James, Regulus, and Peter were trudging through the crowded streets wondering whether they were hungry enough to keep going. The only motivation was the thought of a blue Slushee.
There had been a steady conversation going on between the three until exhaustion had won and all elapsed into silence. Regulus was slightly confused. He was a hermit of sorts and preferred staying lost in books and textbooks alike instead of roaming the campus in search of the other boy’s favorite cafe. He’d memorized every single formula in his maths textbook but was clueless about the places to eat. James and Peter had realized as much when he shrugged his shoulders sheepishly when being asked where he wanted to eat.
Food always tasted like sandpaper anyways so there was seldom any difference between cuisines.
He didn’t say that of course, especially after seeing the joy they had tied to this ‘absolutely amazing little place’ that they insisted he had to visit. He’d agreed to tag along knowing full well he would regret it later on.
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The cafe wasn’t that little now that Peter thought about it, but the younger brunette had been so anxious at the thought of going out and there was no harm in a little white lie. Seeing the hesitant and frightened look on Regulus’ face Peter wished he could whisk them all back to the apartment and keep his new friend safe. But he settled for a reassuring nudge as he slowly led both to the table furthest away from the crowd.
The change unnerved Peter more than he would care to admit. It was a different view (overlooking the bar) and an entirely different perspective on his favorite and constant place to be. But he swallowed down the fear, reassuring himself that this was the same place because the cute waiter was walking past again and the chef was waving at James probably guessing their orders already.
He would be fine. For Regulus if not for himself.
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It was strange to be outside with only one- fourth of his original group and one complete stranger. But James had adjusted to the circumstance without hesitating because he couldn’t bear to breathe in Lily’s flowery scent that wafted through her apartment nor stare at the tiny bits and pieces of her scattered around the rooms.
It’s strange how the sight of a hairbrush or a mug with lipstick smudges could send James spiraling again. Reminding him of the pre-date talks and the hundreds of coffee runs they made together.
He’d always forced himself to mimic her order even though the over-sweet taste of a frappe in the morning nauseated him instead of waking him up as a black coffee would have. The brunette remembered pushing down the reluctance to order and feeling content by just watching the ghost of a smile flicker over his girlfriend’s lips when he ordered the same thing.
And he’d gone through all that for nothing. Replaced his usual with a worse alternative for a person that wasn’t even bothered to eat the completely normal chocolates he had gotten for her.
He almost scoffed, thinking of the sheer dog-like devotion he had for the redhead. There were so many people he had loved, mooned over, and adored, and around each, he had behaved the same. Available at every beck and call, answering the phone on the first ring and reading each text thirty seconds after it was sent.
He couldn't change that.
A new relationship and a new approach would be a welcome change for his mental health but change the entire way he cared for people. The entire method in which he displayed love was a tall order.
Plus there was always a hindering voice in his head that insisted someone would need his love. However dramatic and overbearing, overflowing and painful it would be someone would someday need his extreme state of love because they had never received it before.
But how many tries would it take for this person to stand up and scream his name, how many times did his heart have to shatter before it became whole again?
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The irritated voice stopped its screaming only after the food arrived. Then the insults began echoing in his head.
The little cafe had gone overboard with its servings and the amount of cheese grated on the pizza was the number of calories Regulus would fit over one month, not one meal. Eating this much would ruin the carefully set-out diet that the raven-haired boy had spent hours planning out.
We will get rid of it the voices in his head whispered as he fretted about the food. And somewhere in his gut, he knew that he would rid himself of the calories whether it was simple or not.
Being slim was a condition established by his mother who always frowned upon those who were not. Regulus had seen her demeaning glares and spent many nights in his youth wondering what fault his mother could find with grinning people and happy children. The concept had not even crossed his mind at that time.
Walburga introduced him to the world of hunger and craving and rumbling stomachs only a year later, showing him what was allowed and what was strictly prohibited.
Everything he loved always seemed to be the latter irrespective of the topic.
Slowly he learned to live away from his desires, learned to embrace the stinging pain behind his eyes every time he saw someone eating a cake, riding a bike, or playing with their brother. He learned to live with the tears tracks on his cheeks.
It was pointless arguing with the boys in front of him and trying to say he needed to lose weight because they would shovel the food into his throat just like all the tricksters before. So he smiled politely, an expression he had perfected since youth.
Slowly his breathing evened out and the smell of food became less nauseating and more of a pleasant background scent. Regulus' hands fidgeted with his fork but he kept his eyes trained ahead not drawing his or the other's attention to his plate.
Things he didn't notice would be invisible to the people he spoke with.
If he skirted around the bruises on his face or never acknowledged the constant limp with which he walked everyone else avoided the issues as well never bringing anything up that he didn't talk about first.
Sometimes the brunette hated that he had to be the one to admit his pain and flaws and he couldn't just be held without asking for it.
But the world didn’t wish for him to be loved so he sat at the restaurant pulling the other boys’ attention away from his face, oblivious to how close love sat near him.
“You haven’t taken a bite yet” James whispered, “Is the food okay?” And suddenly Regulus wondered why his voice sounded so caring, why he was sitting with people and caring about their feelings when he had met them a couple of hours ago.
Why did he have his people-pleasing nature set in so deep inside?
Old scars tingled and memories came rushing back, punishments that were inhumane, and words that seemed so cruel and twisted came flooding back in with no warning at that thought, with his past set in so deeply it was normal for the cuts to leave scars.
He feared disappointing this boy with his kind eyes and quiet voice so he quickly speared a single piece of broccoli and forced himself to swallow it. Flavors exploded on his tongue, butter and oil, apple, pomegranate, and a hint of corn. He hummed in satisfaction and slumped back in his chair earning a worried look from the two in front.
“Knew you’d love it here, no one can hate even one dish,” James smiled. “I remember when we found this place back in the first year, it was honestly heaven because with two of the pickiest eaters on the planet its menu was diverse enough to make both happy.”
“It’s the only place we ever eat really.” Peter said.
“You guys are picky?” Regulus said, an eyebrow raised, they seemed simple enough to eat what was placed in front of them without complaint. Unlike a certain someone he used to know.
Peter let out a laugh, “No its the other two, they aren’t here right now-” “Probably fucking if you ask me,” James chimed in oblivious to the way horrified stare Regulus through at him. “He’d probably not wrong ya know, Remus and Sirius have been madly in love and madly oblivious for like a year now.”
“Heck Sirius even moved in with him and they still think we don’t know they’re dating”
Every turn of this conversation makes Regulus’ stomach lurch. The easy way which they say Sirius’ name like it isn’t a word he’s been skirting past for the last four years. Like this man they are talking about isn’t someone Regulus cried over for countless nights. His appetite has deserted him and suddenly there are so many questions buzzing in his head.
Has Sirius thought about him?
Do they know that he’s the other ‘stuck-up Black brat’?
Is Barty playing a cruel joke on him?
Is fate tugging at the fragile strings of his peaceful life? Why must everything be ruined?
He’s slightly aware of the strange looks he’s getting from the passers by but oh-. He’s outside somehow. He ran out again. He’s the one running away now, this is a new freeing feeling. The wind in his hair and his feet beating against the ground and the burning in his lung and eyes. Is this how his brother felt the night he walked out? Is it a cruel coincidence that he feels this way now?