One of Us | Jegulus

Fifteen

I normally don't like interrupting the story with my own words, but I want to take some time and thank you all for your great support!! I read and smile about every single comment and you all are a great motivation for me. I really appreciate it.

I also would love to know where you all are from, this is the first story I don't write in my native language, so the idea of having readers from all around the world is really exciting!

Also, if you have any questions about this story (or anything), feel free to ask, I'd love to talk to you all a bit more!

Now I don't want to bother you any further, have fun with the chapter!

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Oh god, oh god, oh god.

His breath hitched, his heart skipped a beat and was now pounding uncontrollably. He'd just woken up but his hands were already sweaty, even though it wasn't cold at all in the bedroom, not cold at all tightly embraced in James' arms.

Oh god.

James stirred. Was he waking up? Oh please no.
"Hey, you're trembling," he muttered in his raspy morning voice. Regulus felt him shifting, bringing some distance between the two so he could have a look at Regulus, but still didn't let him out of his arms.

"What's wrong?" he asked concerned. Regulus suddenly started to feel dizzy, not able to answer.
This was too much for him, everything was too much.
"I think you're having a panic attack. It's alright, okay?"

No, he wanted to answer. Nothing is alright.

"Get away from me," he panted.
"No."
"What?"
"Stop pushing me away from you, and I don't only mean this literally. Let me help you calm down instead. Okay?"

"I don't need your help, I'm good," Regulus hissed, but stopped struggling against James' arms. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breath. One, two. One, two.

After a couple of seconds that felt like hours he'd calmed down a bit and turned around to look at James, who had watched him the whole time.
He swallowed. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry, I understand that I'm absolutely frightening," James grinned. Regulus shook his head.
"No, it's nothing like that. It's just... I'm not a-"
"Hey," Potter interrupted him. "I never thought you were. That's not what this is about, okay? There is nothing wrong with giving each other some company."
And Regulus stopped and thought about these words, and maybe James was right. Maybe James actually did mean it well with him and simply tried to show him that he cared.

He didn't answer but finally relaxed in James' arms and moved slightly closer.
He had to admit to himself that it actually kind of felt good - still, he was a tiny bit relieved when they had to get up half an hour later. The proximity to another person was something he had to get used to first, he hadn't even hugged anyone in years.

"Do you have to go on another superhero mission today?" asked Regulus, still sitting on the bed when James stood up and rummaged the dresser for fresh clothes.
"I wish. There's just a regular meeting this afternoon and those often last the whole evening."
James sighed and decided for a red sweatshirt that he pulled out of the drawer.
"Oh, those are the worst," Regulus responded, thinking back to the little number of Death Eater meetings he'd attended, most of them literal waste of whole days.
James gave him a weird look. "I always forget that you... well. Be right back." He turned away into the bathroom awkwardly.

Regulus rolled his eyes and leaned back. At least James had stopped himself before he would have had to endure the whole "you're-an-evil-Death-Eater" speech once again.
But now he couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering to those meetings, which, at this moment, were his only actual Death Eater experiences. Apart from the bits that he had caught when he was at home over the holidays. They had a lot of visitors over and sometimes even gatherings were held in their drawing room. Including, of course, the ceremony when he obtained his Dark Mark. But at that time he still attended Hogwarts and wasn't permitted to attend any proper meetings.
That had just started this summer after he graduated, literally the first thing he was told to do after coming home was welcoming some guests and leading them to the drawing room. And this time he was allowed - or rather ordered - to participate.