Regulus black sat alone. His eyes were closed, finally having found a moment to truly relax. The grass tickled palms gently, soft under his palms. It was quiet, really truly quiet. The only sound that filled his ears was the ocean under him. The waves were smashing against the rocks, hissing as they crashed against the rocks. Salt and pollen filled the air, making his nose itch just slightly. Regulus found it comforting, found the empty cliffs comforting. It was an escape from the chaos of the school.
He found his thoughts drifting, moving towards the idea of a certain Gryfinndor. He imagined those soft pink lips against his. Those honey coloured eyes stared into his thoughts. The feeling of grass under Regulus’s fingers began to shift, replaced by messy curls. The scent of broom polish and old spices could easily overpower the sea air.
Regulus knew it was wrong. It was to fall for a boy. And even more so, it was wrong to fall in love with his brother's best friend.
He was perfect, so, so perfect. The way his muscles stretched his stupid school jumper. The way his stupid jokes somehow never failed to make him laugh. His stupid dimples that always made Regulus’s stomach swarm with butterflies.
The way he made Regulus feel could only really be classified as one thing. Pitiful.
It was absolutely pathetic, he was absolutely pathetic.
His thoughts were quickly broken by the sound of footsteps wading through the long grass. Regulus turned to see James, standing right there behind him. His heart fluttered in his chest, a feeling he could quite find the origin of. James spoke up, those soft pink lips forming words that didn't quite reach Regulus for a couple of seconds. “Sorry, didn't think anyone else would be out here” There was something about that stupid grin that stretched his face that made him feel all funny. Regulus found his brain short-circuiting, trying and failing to find a response that didn't make his sound like a freak. Or sound as little like a freak as possible. “I, I.. Uh” He started, having opened his mouth before having found the right words. “I was about to be leaving.” He lied. His voice portrayed a false sense of calm and dignity, one that didn't reflect his true emotions.
He stood, legs wobbling like a newborn giraffe until he found his balance. He trudged back towards the castle, cold air now pricking his skin.
Soon enough Regulus found himself in bed, quilt pulled up to his ears. His eyelids were heaving, a foggy feeling in the corners of his brain. He tried to sleep, to give into that feeling. As soon as he closed his eyes, Regulus found millions of thoughts flooding his brain all at once. There was a fuzzy warmth in his chest. In his half asleep state he thought of the older boy with his wire framed glasses. However, on top of that, just as powerful, was guilt. It was wrong, and he knew it was wrong. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of these feelings. These disgusting feelings went against the very way Regulus had been raised. He had become the very thing his mother hated.
The hallway stretched on endlessly, swallowing sound. Strips of wallpaper peeled away like old skin, revealing wood darkened with rot. The walls seemed to breathe, warping in and out as his footsteps echoed into the distance. After what felt like forever, Regulus turned the corner and stepped into the drawing room. The floorboards creaked beneath his weight, protesting each step. The tapestry waited for him on the far wall—his face burned away, a blackened scar to match Sirius’s. When he turned, his mother was there, looming in the dim light, her eyes fixed on him with something colder than fury.
Walburga raised her wand, arm thin and wiry.
The spell itself was invisible, but Regulus found himself bracing for impact, just waiting for it to hit.
Regulus woke up. There was sweat dripping down his face, breathless pants interrupting the silence of the dorm. His heart was pounding in his chest, trying to escape its cage. Regulus knew it was pathetic. It was only a dream, a truly horrifying nightmare, but just a dream. However, that didn't seem to stop the fact that he could hear his blood coursing through his veins. He could feel the walls starting to close in.
Just as he was running out of oxygen he saw a familiar face sitting in front of him. “Hey, hey, deep breaths.” Barty’s voice broke through the deafening silence, tone softer than usual. Regulus felt a hand squeezing his knee with just the right amount of pressure. He was okay. Everything was okay, it was just fine. “Wanna talk about it?” Barty asked, once again bringing Regulus out of his own head. He opened his mouth to speak, words choking in his throat. Instead, he just shrugged. Barty seemed to get the hint, standing up. Regulus thought he was heading back to bed but soon Regulus felt his quilt being pulled away and a warm body sliding in next to him.
Regulus listened to Barty’s breathing, in and out, in and out. It reminded him of the waves at the cliff, rhythmically constant, a reminder that at least one thing was still under control. He stared at the ceiling for hours, just looking up at the ceiling until the room began to spin. Eventually his eyes began to droop, heavy once again. The room finally faded to black,
theartofmadeline
blakekathryn
