“ i tended to not feel things, for a long time i was good at it. ”
End of the F***ing World Prompts
Fighting came naturally to Sirius. After all, he was a Black. Not a fact he would happily admit, but true enough. The problem was when it came to fighting other Blacks. And like it or not, Regulus appeared to be equally adept at fighting. At least when it came to words or lack thereof (that's how the Blacks do things after all).
He still wasn't sure if he was simply taking part in this fight in an attempt to spite his mother or because he actually had some desire to connect. You see, being Sirius Black was sort of like being a walking contradiction. Not even he could pinpoint a reason for some of the things he did, and if he could he was often wrong.
It played out in stares across the corridors and silent dinners during holidays. In moments where Sirius would catch sight of his brother across the Great Hall and laugh a bit too loudly at one of James' jokes. He could have just gone to Regulus, said something, said anything. But that took far more maturity and less pride than Sirius could muster. So instead of breaking the silence between them, Sirius let it continue on as it had.
He smiled and laughed and did the sort of things that happy people do. And when he saw his brother it was only ever through his peripheral vision. It didn't bother him. It didn't bother him. He was fine. It didn't bother him.
