Aimer
"I'll leave the sun behind me
And I'll watch the clouds as they sadly pass me by
Seven miles below me
I can see the world and it ain't so big at all
This time tomorrow, what will we see?"
…
Hazy with alcohol and marijuana, Regulus Black laid beautifully on the lounge chair of the Slytherin common room.
He had no idea who was sitting on him, or who was touching him, or even who was watching him. But he was so, so drunk, and he felt so, so good.
He had a lazy smile on his face, a rare one, his brown hair coaxed back handsomely as he found himself lightly kissing the neck of whoever was sitting in his lap at that moment. She was pretty, though, from what he could see of her – and he felt that somebody was also sitting on the arm chair. He didn’t have a clue.
As he sat, and felt the girl on the armchair beginning to pet at his arm, he made dizzy eye contact with Tarquin across the room. Who was leaning against the wall and drinking out of a cup, watching him. Regulus raised an eyebrow, asking him, but Tarquin didn’t answer. Not that Regulus could see, anyway.
Regulus started to laugh again. He didn’t know what he was laughing about, but the girl on the right of him seemed to ask what he was laughing at. Well, he may have imagined her asking, but he spoke anyway. “This has been the worst month of my life,” He said over the noise, “I don’t think I can live another day of it.”
“What?” She asked, her eyes bugging at him as he began to laugh harder. It seemed the girl on the armchair didn’t hear him say that, as she got off of it and moved to sitting onto his other leg. They were both somewhat heavy, obviously, but he tried not to show it. He couldn’t really feel his legs anyway.
Regulus waved his hand to try and signal to move past it, and he then gained enough focus to recognize the girl. Her name was Amara, or something. She was a sixth-year, maybe? He couldn’t tell, but moving besides what he said quite well, she leaned in and kissed him. Nonchalantly he kissed back, pressing against her as they both disregarded the other girl. She didn’t seem to care, well, it’s not like Regulus could see her anyway – his eyes were closed.
He put his hand on the back of her neck, and she moved even closer to him, practically pushing the other girl off of the chair. Eventually she got up and moved, letting them have the rest of the space, as they both touched and kissed like they were the only people in the room. Regulus, in the past weeks, had gotten good at being this performative – well, he enjoyed himself, but he knew he had an audience.
Pulling away briefly, Regulus gave her a toothy grin, “Happy Halloween.”
Amara (maybe), laughed, and leaned in again. He complied.
They were at it for a bit more, until Regulus pulled away, “I need another drink.” He tried to push her off of him.
“Haven’t you had enough?” Amara asked, disappointed.
“No,” Regulus answered, getting up and leaving her there. He walked in a messy line across the room, directly to where they were keeping the drinks for this specific party. When he arrived, he began to pour himself some shots, unaware of his surroundings and solely focused on what was in front of him.
“What’re you up to, Reg?” He heard a voice at the side of him. Looking over at him, Regulus grinned at Ben, holding up the shot glass in front of him as he poured. Ben laughed, “Jesus.” Regulus shrugged, silently. He took three shots, one after the other, unsure of how he was handling it but doing it right in front of his friend. “Haven’t seen you this smiley in ages,” Ben sighed, “looking happy with Amara over there?”
“Oh! I was right, it is Amara,” Regulus practically talked out loud as he got himself a beer, and Ben started to laugh.
“Losing count, eh?”
“Yeah,” Regulus said honestly, “can’t keep track.” Ben laughed harder even though Regulus really wasn’t joking.
Somehow after developing a black eye, Regulus became even more popular, and the month of October passed by in a montage of girl after girl and drink after drink. Regulus wasn’t even sure what he was really doing, but he was doing it, and he couldn’t find it in him to stop.
“Well,” Ben looked back over to where Regulus had been sitting, “have fun with Amara.” Regulus followed his glance and saw that Amara was waiting for him in the chair, and he smiled at her before turning back to the bottle. He looked back at her as he lifted it up, beginning to chug the bitter liquid, and then putting it back down. Ben clapped him on the back, and they both laughed, as Regulus leaned against the table for support.
Ben was lost, well, he walked away, but Regulus couldn’t see where he went. Smiling and shaky, Regulus made his way over to the couch, before sitting down next to a fourth-year girl who looked very surprised when he was next to her. She was pretty, and very very dizzy (to Regulus), and he smiled, “Hello.”
“Hi,” She said, looking at him nervously. He could sense that off of her, and he moved closer to her, actually unaware of how close he actually was anyway.
“What’s your name?” He asked, leaning against the couch as he tried to steady himself, wanting to see her and her reactions fully instead of not being able to focus enough.
She swallowed visibly, “Kohko.”
“Kohko,” Regulus nodded, “what does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Kohko began to pet her hair nervously.
“I like your hair,” Regulus smiled, “it’s brown.”
“Sorry,” Kohko shook her head, “could you leave me alone? I’m not really… interested, in whatever this is.” He immediately felt a sharp knock to his chest, and he was confused at the same time.
“What?” Regulus looked at her, “You don’t want me?”
Kohko looked around, “No, I’m sorry.” She looked back at him finally, “You’re pissed. And I don’t want to… well, I just don’t do what you do.”
“What do I do?” Regulus asked with uncertainty.
“You… well, I don’t know,” She seemed very unsure of herself, “I just don’t like you that way.”
Regulus stared at her, trying to figure her out. And she stared back at him somehow, with a very set sense of determination. He then looked away, and stood up, walking away from her and walking around the table in front of them. He looked around at all the people, all the bodies who were existing and living in the same room that he was.
I just don’t like you that way.
Regulus didn’t know where he was walking, or where he was going, or why he was doing this or why he was standing there. But he couldn’t feel anything, and the room was spinning and falling on top of him, and he didn’t know what was happening.
And then he looked, and saw Tarquin.
He was leaning against the wall still, and this time Maura Goldberg was standing in front of him. They were both talking, and laughing. They were laughing. And Regulus didn’t know what to do.
What are they laughing about?
Are they laughing at me?
He felt so woozy again, and he turned around, before cutting towards the drinks and immediately picking up a bottle of Fizzwizz Firewhisky. He lifted it, before popping the cap and chugging. He didn’t know what he was doing. But he heard sounds around him, and clapping, and something else, and he couldn’t tell.
Once he finished, he looked back at Tarquin and Maura, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He took a deep breath, before he walked over to them, pushing through the crowd of people and trying very hard to just control himself. But he had lost it all.
“Maura,” He said over the noise.
Maura was focused on Tarquin, but did turn to look at him, and she looked confused, “What, Regulus?”
Regulus wasn’t even looking at her. He was looking right at Tarquin without even realizing. But he asked, “Do you think I’m attractive?”
Tarquin looked stunned for a moment, but then Maura answered, “Sure I do.”
“Then why aren’t you laughing with me?” Regulus asked in a slur, and lost his balance and fell onto the wall practically. Maura started to laugh, and she helped him stand.
Maura shrugged, “Jesus, you’re pissed.” She laughed, looking up at Tarquin before looking back at Regulus, “Because I’m more attracted to your friend over here.” Tarquin went red, looking at Maura while Regulus tried to understand.
He shook his head, “Everyone wants me. You’re wrong.”
“Not everyone,” Maura laughed, “Not every girl is going to want to screw you, Regulus.” She shrugged again, “People like who they like.”
Regulus felt like he was going to be sick, “Do you like each other?”
Tarquin suddenly swallowed, “Maura, I think I’m gonna…” She seemed to understand, and smiled at him, before walking away. “C’mon, Regulus,” He put his hand on his shoulder, “let’s go up.”
“Where?” Regulus asked, as Tarquin started to lead him to the staircase.
“Our room,” Tarquin looked around, just as Kohko had been, “you’re pissed. It scares me.”
Regulus shrugged him off, “Go be with Maura.”
“What is your fucking deal?” Tarquin whispered heatedly, “Why would you ask her that? I like her.”
“No you don’t,” Regulus narrowed his eyes, still able to do that while drunk, “she just has big tits.”
Tarquin sighed, “I don’t know why I like you.”
Regulus looked at him, “You like me?”
“Yes,” Tarquin looked lost, “and you yet need validation of every person in the fucking room. Maura was right. You’re popular, yeah, but not every girl is going to want you. Focus on the ones that do.”
“Are you going to fuck Maura?” Regulus asked, ignoring what he previously said.
“I don’t know, Regulus,” Tarquin shook his head, “why do you care so much?”
“Why do you care so much?” Regulus raised an eyebrow, still trying to steady himself, “why were you looking at me earlier? When I was in the chair?”
Tarquin didn’t understand, “Because Maura was sitting next to you.”
Regulus looked down at the ground, confused, “I was kissing Maura?”
“Yes,” Tarquin stared at him, “Christ, how pissed are you?”
“I don’t… I thought that was Amara,” Regulus shook his head, “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I’m confused,” Regulus lost his balance again, holding onto the wall, “I don’t… I'm sorry.”
Tarquin sighed, “It’s okay. Really. It’s fine.”
Regulus looked at him, “I like you, too.”
“Good,” Tarquin shrugged, “we’re friends. We’re supposed to like each other.”
Regulus and Tarquin stared at each other, both not knowing what should be said but knowing what shouldn’t. Regulus looked at him for a bit longer, before turning away, and walking back into the party.
Everything was dizzier than it had ever been, then. He had never had that much to drink before. He didn’t know where he was going, or what he was doing, or what was meant.
But he was eventually on the couch, with a seventh-year, and they went up to her room. He remembered that. And he was with her for a while, he couldn’t remember it. When he went back downstairs, he found another girl, and went up to her room. And at the reminiscence of the party, he went up with a fourth-year girl, who he instead brought to his own room. He couldn’t remember if his roommates had been there. He didn’t know.
She left, and he stayed. He laid in bed. He couldn’t feel his hands. His drapes seemed long. The world was quiet.
And his bed was comfortable.
I don’t know why I like you.
…